


To Mend with Gold

by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Admissions, Anal, Angst, Blow Jobs, Canada, Engagement, Fake Marriage, Fake Names, Forgiveness, Hannigram - Freeform, M/M, On the Run, Other Lives, PTSD, Post Fall, Post Season 3 Finale, Reckoning, Rimming, Sex, Smut, Therapy, letting go of the past, overcoming, resolutions, secrets lives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 98,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforethedawn/pseuds/beforethedawn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstructFairytales/pseuds/ConstructFairytales, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened
Summary: Will and Hannibal have been living as a gay married couple for three years, but they haven't slept in the same room let alone the same bed. Will Graham has a reckoning, one way or another.





	1. Chapter 1

Surviving the fall wasn’t the worst part, nor was it hard. A little stitching up, a little help, and a lot of effort saw them through. Death seemed welcome at a few points, for both of them, but neither Hannibal or Will caved into that sort of darkness. There was a mild competition there, unsaid but clear, about surviving and living, to see who could see it through to the end, and not give up.

Survival brought them to White Rock, Vancouver, where they stayed hidden for a while, and then once they were healed and less hobbled, they inserted themselves into the local community as the new married couple, much to Will’s chagrin.

They took up separate bedrooms. Will insisted.

Darkness had crawled under Will’s skin and nested there, it might have even grown a little after The Great Red Dragon, but Will had not let himself foster the beast as Hannibal had hoped. A change had been made, ever growing, ever loitering in Will’s soul, but the empath-- accepting as he was of the former doctor--refused to unhinge completely. There were debts to be paid, and acts against him he still held high on the list. Forgiven as those acts may have been, they held a deeper spot in Will than he ever thought they might have. Living with Hannibal made that clear.

Years passed, three to be exact, and they established a daily routine. Hannibal prepared meals, Will cleaned up. Hannibal made sure Will’s coffee was just as he preferred it. Every evening at dinner Will asked a snide question about whom they were eating, and at every dinner, Hannibal answered with a challenging look across the table.

“Who are we eating tonight?”

“I located and slaughtered the myopic designer who produced that plaid shirt you’re so very fond of, Will,” Hannibal answered his ‘husband’ from across the table, with a subtle smirk in his amber-brown eyes as he cut a piece of meat and consumed it. “I consider it a public service.”

“It only took you three years to track him down?” Will asked, more an observation than anything else. He placed a piece of meat into his mouth, chewing slowly to savor the taste, still unsure if Hannibal actually killed what they ate or if he merely told Will it was people.

Will didn’t really want to know.

“We are in hiding, Will. I had to be careful,” Hannibal said, dryly, and rose to offer his husband a refill of the high-end whiskey he’d procured for him, recently. The low lights of the dining room shone off of Hannibal’s carefully groomed hair, and his cologne seemed to carry a trace of musk and whiskey in it as he leaned closer to Will to top up his glass.

“At any rate, I think he’s much better as the _designed_ than designing.” Hannibal smiled sardonically at the elaborately arranged rack of ribs in the center of the table.

Taking a moment, Will’s sea-blue eyes wandered the length of the display and then back to Hannibal, meeting his gaze, which was always a tad amused, even if Will wasn’t. “I had no idea my shirts offended you so much.”

“I assumed you wore them to provoke me,” Hannibal replied, dryly, and sat again to eat. The candles in the dining room were always perfectly arranged and lit when Will was ready for dinner, the music soft and thoughtfully chosen, as were the place settings.

Will’s napkin was often secured with a new, and beautifully crafted fishing lure that set off the color palette of the table.

The little things didn’t go unnoticed to Will, but they weren’t necessary, either. Hannibal put thought into things Will wouldn’t have, having never done them. They were not a couple, they were pretending to be, at least as far as Will was concerned. There was a kinship, unbridled and loving between them, but as far as anything else went, Will just… couldn’t approach that. Not yet.

“Provoke you? They’re comfortable and warm.”

“So are the sweaters I found for you, Will,” Hannibal pointed out. “I was careful to ensure that they do not _itch,_ ” Hannibal said, mocking Will’s objection to wearing a sweater at all.

“I don’t mind the sweaters, but they can be _too_ warm sometimes.” Will cut into another piece of meat and shoved it into his mouth a little less politely.

Hannibal just raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. In public, no one had ever doubted for a second that they were married. They had never needed to pretend a thing, except for a moment or two when Will had held his hand … briefly, then retreated to his solitary bedroom at home without a word about it.

There were moments, quite a few of them, that Hannibal marveled at how good Will was at acting as though he was in love in public. Will, of course, walled himself off after those instances the second they walked through the door and usually went fishing for a day or two.

“There are shirts of better quality that don’t require the collar needs to be stitched back on after it’s been washed twice, Will,” Hannibal pointed out, almost into his glass of wine.

Will was very good at mirroring, giving back what people wanted to see in him, he could mimic and put on a good show. It’s how he caught the ripper, after all, so to speak.

“Fine. I’ll wear the sweaters and burn the flannel.” Will picked up his glass of whiskey and took a long sip. Some arguments weren’t worth having. Honestly, he did wear the flannel to pester his ‘husband’. The sweaters were fine.

Hannibal looked skeptical. He’d heard Will promise as much before, and the ratty old flannel shirts never seemed to reach the firepit in their backyard. “You’re still aware that we promised the Nguyens that we’ll attend their anniversary party tomorrow?” Hannibal asked. It was important that they struck a balance between being involved in their upscale but suburban neighborhood, and keeping their distance. Reclusiveness would have made them stand out as surely as breaking into someone’s home and living there.

“I haven’t forgotten.” Will finished his drink and set the heavy bottom glass down with his shaking right hand, licking his lips once. He never thought he’d be living the suburban lifestyle with Hannibal Lecter.

Or at all.

Hannibal watched Will’s glass without looking directly at it. He knew it embarrassed Will, and that Will now pretended to be left-handed due to the difficulty of using his right. “I’ve picked up a gift, the card is waiting in the kitchen if you’d like to sign.” He could tell Will was done eating and picked up their plates to exchange for dessert.

“I’ll sign it when I do the dishes,” Will insisted, rolling his right shoulder when Hannibal wasn’t looking, rubbing at the spot, but it never did any good. One too many war wounds.

Hannibal returned with two plates and set one in front of Will. “Peach galette with brandied pecans and vanilla bean gelato,” Hannibal said, as he took his seat.

Three years in, Will was pretty good with his left hand, taking up the spoon to scoop into the dessert and try a bite. It heavenly, as all Hannibal’s dishes were. “Once again, you have outdone yourself.”

Hannibal allowed himself a little smile, down at the plate, and then at Will. “Peaches were, surprisingly, available at the farmer’s market, today. I took the opportunity to attempt something rather … American.”

Will chuffed, and put another bite in his mouth. Peaches were his favorite, reminded him of summers down south. “Imported, but still good.”

Hannibal considered Will’s reaction, and looked behind them, at their large but largely impersonal backyard through the landscape window. “Perhaps we could grow them, here.”

“In the summer,” Will said with a small smile, watching Hannibal’s features and then his gaze roamed out over the mostly fruitless trees they had. Decoration if nothing else. “Do you…want to grow a peach tree?”

“I’ve heard the blossoms are lovely, and I’d, of course, become obligated to produce a multitude of peach desserts,” Hannibal said, lightly, looking back at Will. The house had remained on the outside as it was when they purchased it. Hannibal’s desire to landscape had been stifled by Will’s resistance to the idea. There was no point, he’d said when they might have to sell it and leave at any moment. “There’s no reason why we cannot have a tree off to the side so that it does not obscure our view of the bay.” Their stone house, situated on a corner lot, had a dazzling view of the bay and fishing pier below, which was one of the reasons they’d chosen the house.

It had been three years, Will reasoned to himself, shifting his jaw as he put more dessert into his mouth, mulling it over. “One tree couldn’t hurt.”

Hannibal met Will’s blue eyes, with a warm expression and a smile. Perhaps now they would begin to put down literal as well as figurative roots. Hannibal worked as a radiologist at the nearby Surrey Memorial Hospital, and Will repaired fishing boat motors in their sizeable garage. It would have been a lovely life if Will allowed himself to relax into the truth of it. “Just the one,” Hannibal nodded and looked over his wine glass at Will, eyes catching the empty space where his wedding ring sat when they left the house. It was empty now. Hannibal wore his own, constantly, even to bed.

Will played his facade when he had to, other than that, they were just them in the privacy of their home. He never bothered Hannibal about what he preferred to do, afraid the conversation would turn to something a little bit more real. Will was simply… living.

“Two, if we get rid of some of those rose bushes.”

“I’d much rather pull up one of the pale green shrubs, than one of the roses,” Hannibal mused, as he watched Will. Will seemed to live from moment to moment, behaving as though their moment on the cliff side had simply never happened, and they had both simply appeared in this life as though dreaming.

Ironically, their house was situated at the edge of a cliff. It provided spectacular views of the ocean and mountains, but returned them, symbolically, to the moment before they’d fallen with one another.

They were stuck in that moment before it all happened.

“At this rate, we may as well just redo the whole yard,” Will said, his tone sardonic, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. As long as the views were not interrupted, he didn’t care what Hannibal took out or put in.

“A bush and two trees does not an entire yard make, Will,” Hannibal sighed, his dessert largely untouched.

Will dipped his spoon into the last of his own dessert, his gaze meeting Hannibal’s silently as he licked the silver clean. After a sip of water, he set the spoon down on the dish. “It starts with little things, and moves into larger ones.”

Hannibal resisted the urge to stare at Will’s mouth against the spoon, barely. He failed for just an instant and looked away with a deep breath. “Are you arguing that landscaping one’s backyard after three years in a dwelling is in any way dangerous? Heaven forbid, Will, we might have lilies.”

“It’s winter,” Will pointed out. “Plant what you want. Don’t be… flashy about it. No statues.” Will stood, taking their dessert plates and glasses to the kitchen to start in on washing.

Hannibal’s chest rose and then fell evenly as Will walked away, but turned his head to look after him with a frown. After a moment, Hannibal followed, with his glass of wine, and walked to the window to gaze out over the bay at sunset, contemplating. “Do you ever hear your father’s voice, Will? I imagine he cautioned and scolded you in a similar manner every time you implied that you’d like to have a settled residence.”

Will was elbow deep in dishwater, shoulders sagging and then rounding at Hannibal’s words. He swallowed thickly, biting the inside of his lip to hold in his annoyance. “I don’t think about my father. Haven’t in years. But, maybe he was right. Why put love into something that we’ll have to leave someday?”

“The nature of mortality is that we have to leave everything one day. Do you argue, in that case, that love of any kind is a futile scream into an uncaring void?” Hannibal asked, over his shoulder.

Frowning, Will looked behind him at Hannibal, brows furrowed. “Attachments can be disappointments.”

Hannibal turned to stare at Will, steadily, his gaze locked on Will’s eyes in an unblinking trance that was not broken by the slow sip of his wine. “So they can. In your view, it is better to plant nothing, permit no roots to grip hold of the earth on the chance that the tree will not grow as straight or as tall as promised? In that case, Will, perhaps we should pave over the entire yard.”

Sighing, Will shook his head slowly and went back to washing the dishes, setting the clean ones to be dried when he was done. “We can redo the yard. Whatever you want.”

Hannibal’s stare was dark, and yet to be broken as it focused on the back of Will’s neck. “Perhaps you’re right, a stone garden requires no maintenance, and nothing can die,” he sighed. “Besides, what I want does not seem to be a part of our particular set of equations, Will.” A pager that lived near Hannibal’s car keys on a teak credenza sounded, breaking the silence. Hannibal set his wine on the counter and walked to it to examine the code.

Will finished and wiped the dishes clean for a moment, mulling and stewing over the fight about trees and plants, that didn’t seem to be about trees and plants at all. He wiped his hands and walked over, not wanting Hannibal to leave in this mood.

“I like the yard as it is, but a tree or two couldn’t hurt, we’ll take out the bushes, not the roses.”

Hannibal looked from his pager to Will, reading his face as he might have read and deciphered an MRI. “Olive branches, not peach, are the traditional peace offering, Will,” Hannibal said, with a tilt of his head at Will’s expression.

“Would you prefer olives?” Will asked, brows raised, willing at this point to do what it took to smooth over their placid lives. “I’m kidding, by the way. I’ll go buy the trees tomorrow.”

Hannibal’s face shifted into an expression of mild surprise when his pager went off again, and he saw the same number displayed as before. “I doubt very much that you’d enjoy a traditional, southern olive cobbler,” Hannibal said, softening a little before he picked up his phone, excusing himself softly before he called to reach whoever had paged him.

Giving Hannibal his privacy, Will went back to finish drying the dishes and put them away. Everything was up and down with them, but mostly it worked out, they had their routine, but lately routine seemed to be nagging at Hannibal. Will could feel it, like a piece of himself slowly being ripped out. That wasn’t a feeling he thought he’d ever have again, not when he risked it all to be here with Hannibal.

He filled a tumbler with three fingers of whiskey and let himself out into the backyard, porch light on as the sunset brought out the stars. It wasn’t quite like Wolf Trap or Moosehead Lake, but it was close enough.

Hannibal had chosen their house carefully since Will didn’t seem to want to be involved in the decision. They were still well-hidden in an upscale neighborhood, in a liberal area where they would not attract too much attention as a couple, but Hannibal knew Will was happiest near water. From here, outside, they could hear the lapping of water against the beach and fishing pier below. Their yard was large enough for dogs, of course, but Will had never asked about one.

The radiologist stepped outside, after pocketing his phone, and watched Will for a moment. “My resident thought she had an emergency on hand,” he explained.

“Thought? She doesn’t now?” Will asked, a glance over his shoulder at Hannibal.

“A simple misinterpretation of a particularly difficult x-ray,” Hannibal explained. “After she sent a digital copy, I managed to clear up the misunderstanding.” He walked to Will, and stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder, looking out at the stars as darkness fell. “Misunderstandings are easier to resolve when there is a concrete, unambiguous problem at hand. Psychiatry is much more ephemerous, and vague, in some ways, much more difficult. A fracture or rupture within a relationship cannot be isolated and documented with so crude an instrument as an x-ray, or really, any instrument at all.”

“Are we having a misunderstanding?” Will sipped his drink, taking his time with it now that he saw Hannibal wasn’t running out once paged.

“I believe my understanding of you to be accurate,” Hannibal said, softly.

“This isn’t about peach trees is it?” Will sighed, looking over at Hannibal, reminiscent of a time when being close like this was second nature, a time when Will had let himself trail under Hannibal’s darkness. That was before Will knew, with certainty, that Hannibal loved him.

“There was a time when you never would have had to ask that question, Will,” Hannibal replied, quietly.

Not about the peach trees.

Will shifted his jaw and turned to Hannibal, meeting face to face. What was there to say--what _could_ he say? “Are we so unhappy?”

“We are living in a state of limbo, Will,” Hannibal said, softly and honestly.

As though the ocean had frozen them when they struck three years ago.

It wasn’t that Will was unaware, he was very much aware, but being forced to face a reality he never meant to be one had left him stricken. How could he give Hannibal things he didn’t feel he could reciprocate?

“So we are,” he agreed. Will thought it worked, they got to be together without _being_ together, just as he had always seen it. His mind usually shut down when it went much further than that, exploring that sort of side of himself never seemed plausible.

“That said, limbo with good company is preferable to heaven with a bore,” Hannibal noted, as they looked at the ocean together.

Will huffed a laugh, shaking his head as his eyes wandered the shoreline at a distance. “Better together than in separate cells.”

“Yes, imagine the agony of interacting and speaking without being permitted to touch,” Hannibal said, with a raised eyebrow. “Forever looking out at the same view, never at each other.”

Hannibal sipped his wine and looked at the cliffside beyond. “If you look closely, Will, you can see the mark on the cliffside where water has scarred the rock during a particularly high tide. The sea marked a place in a feverish moment, during a storm, that it will likely never reach again. I am certain the stone remembers.”

In all the years, they never actually talked about it. Will could feel Hannibal growing impatient, maybe even a little bored. The empath took a sip of his drink, slowly, watching the shore in contemplation. “I’m certain of that, too.” He looked at Hannibal, through with only the light from the moon to see his sharp features. Will had grown too comfortable in their silences, in the routines they created, sure that it would all be just enough.

Hannibal looked back at Will for a moment, thoughtfully. Had that moment between them on the cliff never happened, Hannibal would be quite content.

It had, however, happened. Will had embraced him, wholly, their faces had come close enough to kiss, and Will had said that it was beautiful, all of it.

Now, Will seemed nearly embarrassed to be alive, and stuck, as it were, with Hannibal.

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I may check in with my fledgling resident. Good night, Will.”

“Good night, Hannibal.” Will took a deep breath and downed his drink. There’d be more of it later, something to numb it all away at least for the night.

***

The next day was back to normal, for the couple. Hannibal prepared breakfast and coffee for them both before he went to the hospital for a day’s work.

After he returned home, he changed into something appropriate for their neighbor’s anniversary party and played the piano while he waited for Will to come in from the garage. When Will did, he was covered in grease but showered and changed into the slacks and shirt laid out for him, complete with the awful sweater vest. He combed his hair just right to cover the scar on his forehead, the one that would always bring up the most questions.

“Ready when you are,” he said, fixing his sleeves as he stepped into the loafers left by the stairs.

Hannibal finished his piece, and looked up at Will, with a soft smile. “I see you found a comb,” he said, as he stood, and carried an impeccably wrapped gift.

“I did. Amazing, right?” Will gave Hannibal a look, smoothing down the vest with a sigh. The things he did to keep up their ruse.

“You look very nice,” Hannibal said, as his eyes moved over Will’s features, to his sea green eyes that looked even more green than usual given the color of the sweater vest he wore. “We won’t stay too long.”

Another look. Will knew they always got caught up in these things. Everyone loved them, and there was _always_ someone new to talk to and try to impress. “Thank you. So you do.” Will’s eyes lingered a little longer on Hannibal than usual before he opened the front door for him.

Hannibal seemed to glow a little with the look Will gave him, and looked at Will’s left hand, relieved to see the ring in place for the evening. “Thank you. Shall we walk or drive?”

“It’s not too far, we can walk if you can stand the chill,” Will offered, shutting and locking the door behind them.

“I’m not quite as delicate as I may appear,” Hannibal joked, with a smile as they set out together.

Halfway down the block, Will reached out and took Hannibal’s hand into his right, his squeeze less tight in that one. “Just making sure you were up for it after a long day.”

Hannibal laced his fingers in with Will’s and swallowed before he replied. “You can always carry me home,” he teased, unsure whether or not Will remembered Hannibal carrying Will home after their misadventure at Muskrat farms.

Will had been awake then, but barely able to move, barely conscious after everything. But he remembered most of it.

“I’d do my best.” Will’s fingers curled a little more, their palms resting together, keeping warm in the chill of the winter night.

Will’s hand in his felt like the most natural thing in the world, like they had been holding hands every day since they had been reborn from the sea. “You are stronger than you look,” Hannibal noted with a soft smile to himself. “It is a grave mistake to underestimate your ability, particularly in a moment of crisis.”

“Can’t judge a book by its cover,” Will agreed, with a raised brow toward Hannibal. The light from the setting sun caught Hannibal’s eyes, making them lighter looking, and Will couldn’t help but stare a little longer as they walked.

Hannibal held the stare, well aware of the effect his eyes had when they were lit like ancient, polished amber. “Of course, your cover requires no improvement.”

“I could think of a few things,” Will murmured, allowing his gaze to settle on Hannibal, even leaning a little more into him. The closer they got to their destination, the more personable they had to become.

“I would not change a thing,” he murmured, softly. He had to admit, one of the reasons he enjoyed going to social events with Will was the chance to indulge in their facade.

“Not one thing?” Will offered Hannibal a knowing smile. He knew the other man to be biased, and always had been toward him, to a point.

Hannibal’s eyes moved over Will’s features, his scars, lost in the sight of him. “Strangely enough, every mark and scar has only succeeded in making the rest of your face more remarkable.”

Will huffed softly, amused, jaw shifting. “I guess when you’ve helped to give me some of them, you hold a certain affection for them.”

“You have plenty of time to return the favor,” Hannibal pointed out with a sly smile, back to his habit of a dark, bloody sort of flirting with Will.

Oddly enough, considering their relationship, Will had never laid a hand on Hannibal. It was an intimate sort of violence he didn’t want to hand over, and nor did he want to lose control with it, either. He squinted a moment at Hannibal like he was sizing him up.

“Some might call that domestic violence.”

“I’m certain many people would have several things to say about our relationship, and the things we’ve done,” Hannibal noted, smiling to himself as they strolled along.

“Good thing it’s just between us then.” At least now it was. Will sighed, taking the turn around the corner toward the house they were visiting. Will preferred to be working, not becoming ‘David’, or ‘Dave’ as some called him.

Hannibal looked at Will when he heard the long-suffering sigh, then at the house they approached. “Is this still preferable to prison, Will?”

Pausing Will stood in front of Hannibal, still holding his hand. “Yes. I like our life here. I am content.” For having to be on the run, for hiding. It wasn’t preferable to anything, he’d rather they didn’t have to, but for Hannibal, to be with his best friend--his soul mate--Will did it.

“I was referring, specifically, to attending an anniversary party,” Hannibal said, dryly. “But I’m happy to hear that you’d rather live with me than in prison.” Hannibal’s eyes twinkled, darkly, amused and only lightly offended.

“I wasn’t aware we changed subjects,” Will whispered, cheeks flushed slightly as he tugged Hannibal toward the house. “And I don’t mind these parties too much. I hate being called ‘Dave’ though.”

“Which is precisely why I’ve only ever called you David,” Hannibal whispered back, admiring Will’s blush.

“Tell that to everyone else.” Will straightened his shoulders and walked a little closer to Hannibal, their shoulders touching the closer they got.

“I lead by example, David,” Hannibal whispered, and squeezed his husband’s hand before he knocked on the door of their hosts.

“They aren’t listening or observing,” Will whispered back, straightening his vest with his free hand, squeezing Hannibal’s back with the other.

“Few people do,” Hannibal said, and looked over Will’s clothing before the door opened by a middle-aged woman with a big smile. “David! Armand! You made it,” she said with a big smile and hugged them both. “Come in, come in.”

Will let Hannibal lead, but their fingers never let go of one another, not even for the hugs. Will nodded his hello with it, greeting them both. “Happy Anniversary,” he said, gesturing to Hannibal. “He has the gift, not me.”

Hannibal handed their hostess the gift, and she thanked them profusely, then led them inside to a busy, but relaxed party where people milled around with drinks and appetizers. “For you both, of course. Congratulations. Thirty years is quite an achievement.” “Thank you, both of you. How long have you two been married, now?” she asked, as she handed them drinks.

“Six years,” Will answered, taking the drink offered with his left hand. “Feels like much longer.”

Hannibal shot his husband an affectionately annoyed look and accepted a glass of wine. Will put his arm around Hannibal with that and leaned into him, reassuringly.

“That said, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“Good save,” said one of the men near Will, with a laugh. “How’ve you been, Dave?”

Will gave Hannibal a squeeze around his waist and then let go, offering his hand to the other man. “Not bad. Busy, you know.How about you, John?”

Hannibal allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of Will’s arm around his narrow waist before he drifted off into the crowd to mingle, but looked back at Will, frequently, watching him from across the room over his glass of wine when he wasn’t assisting the hosts in the kitchen. As usual at neighborhood social events, most of the men hung around Will, happy to talk about motors and fishing while Hannibal ended up in the kitchen with most of the women hanging on his every word. One of the women wandered back to Will with a tray of canapes that had Hannibal’s touch of artistry to them, offering Will one. “Your husband insists on upstaging everyone else in the kitchen, Dave.”

“He does that,” Will commented, taking one, as he knew Hannibal would ask him later what he thought, as he always did. “It’s his thing.”

“I’ve got no idea how you stay so skinny, then,” she laughed and noticed Hannibal watching Will from across the room as he tried the food.

“Lots of extracurricular activities,” replied with a little smile and then took a bite of the food with a look at Hannibal, showing he ate it.

“It’s cute, the way he checks up on you,” she said, with a smile. “I don’t think my husband’s looked at me like that since we were dating. Once the ring is on, that’s it.”

“He’s just worried I’ll someone else’s dishes first,” Will teased, but her words were sinking into him slowly, as he took them to heart. It wasn’t the first time anyone had pointed it out, not in the three years they’d be here, but Will usually brushed it off.

Something was changing in him, and he didn’t know what it was, but the air in the room seemed thick and heavy at once.

“Do you think he’d be angrier if you flirted with someone or liked something someone cooked more than you like his cooking?” she asked him, half-whispering while Hannibal watched them both through the crowd of people.

“Uh, yes,” Wil replied plainly. “To both. He’s a very… jealous man.”

“You lucky dog,” she sighed and looked at her own husband where he sat on the couch, watching a game. Hannibal carried another conversation on with the hostess, politely, and moved them both slowly, inches at a time so that he could still see Will over her shoulder. She was already on her fifth glass of sangria, he knew she wouldn’t notice his inattention.

“I might be,” Will agreed with a brighter smile, a lot of things were clicking, things that had been spurred on by the conversation the night before with Hannibal, things that Will had pushed down because it was convenient.

Things he didn’t want to work on, or worry about, or consider.

Hannibal excused himself and stalked his way through the crowd, back toward Will, stopping along the way every time someone caught his arm to draw him into another conversation. “When’s your anniversary?” the woman at Will’s side asked, curiously, and blew long blonde bangs out of her face.

“October 3rd,” Will answered, stepping to the side a bit, slowly moving away from the woman who was starting to smell a little like she’d had too much.

“Oh god, see, that’s so sweet, you remember shit like that,” she sighed. “My husband forgot ours … it was on my birthday,” she sighed and stared at Will as Hannibal did his best to sidestep another conversation about his appetizers. The woman next to Will hung onto his arm.

“You could always put a reminder in his phone,” Will suggested, trying to push the woman off. Her blonde hair reminded him a little too much of Molly, and that was the last thing he wanted to have on his mind. “I need to get a refill, excuse me.”

“Grab one for me, too?” she called after Will, following him, stumbling a little. Hannibal stepped out of the crowd, smoothly, and looked between Will and his admirer. “Having fun, David?” he asked, crisply.

Will gave an exasperated look to his husband, taking the woman’s glass and slipping past them both, looking over his shoulder for Hannibal to follow.

Hannibal looked from the blonde who waited for Will, and back toward his ‘husband’ with a serious expression that would look calm to anyone who did not know him well. He looked down into his wine, finished it, set the glass on a tray of empty glasses and stepped out the front door.

Will finished his drink and set them both down, escaping into the kitchen and then back out the other side, hopefully, unnoticed by the blonde woman, her name always escaping him. He walked to the front door after Hannibal, as not to make it seem like they had a scuffle. Hannibal was inspecting a bloom on a rose bush outside and did not turn to look at Will when he heard the door shut behind him. “No need to rush on my account, David.”

“I’ve never wanted to be more rushed than I was in there,” Will said, watching Hannibal carefully, the vibe he got off him was seemingly indifferent and a tad angry.

Hannibal was still in the way that an angry cat remained perfectly still before striking. He focused on the poorly kept roses instead of looking at Will, his breaths measured and even. “Oh?”

Will took the steps down to Hannibal’s side, hands kept to himself for the moment. “I can’t control the actions of others. I was trying to remove myself from her side.”

“Of course you cannot, nor would I ever expect you to,” Hannibal said, reasonably, but only turned his head a little, enough for Will to see his imposing profile, but not to make eye contact.

“You’re angry with me.” Will stuffed his hands into his pockets, the party continuing inside without them.

“Am I allowed to feel anger toward you? I was under the impression that the only anger permitted in our arrangement is yours, toward me,” Hannibal said, with frosty calm, thumbing a thorn on the side of the rose stem.

“If you’re angry I’d like to know why.” Will shifted, his head turning to look back the door, to be sure no one came out after them. “I’m… I’m not angry with you.”

Hannibal turned to face Will and blinked twice, incredulously. “Aren’t you?” he asked, and walked closer to Will, looking him dead in the eye. “The last three years of our friendship has not been populated with the ghosts of all of the injuries you’ve suffered before our fall? Before you took us over the edge, Will?”

Stunned, Will stood there for a moment longer than he’d meant to when he did find his voice again, his heart was thudding in his chest, blood rushing. “I haven’t meant for it to be. Our past is our past. We haven’t even talked about it. I…” Will swallowed, shrugging.

“We haven’t talked about it, you are correct. We have not talked about anything since we woke on the shore,” Hannibal said, close to Will, his voice serious and quiet. “Speaking about the past, _talking_ about the past would enable us to move beyond that, as a couple. It’s been my observation that you are devoted to keeping our dynamic precisely as it is. Talking would upset the careful status quo.”

“It works, doesn’t it?” Will blurted it out before he’d meant to, a not so careful come back that was bound to tip the delicate balance here, not that it hadn’t been before, but suddenly everything was hanging by a thin thread.

Hannibal took a slow, deep breath as he looked at Will’s face, up close, and then sighed. “It does, Will,” Hannibal said, quietly. There was a look in his eyes that was reminiscent of the night he had gutted Will for breaking his heart, little anger, and immense heartbreak. “You have the perfect marriage.” He looked beyond Will, at the party. “I’ll excuse myself, and say the hospital has paged,” he said, and stepped past Will, politely, to say goodbye to their hosts.

“You’re not leaving me here,” Will interjected, following after Hannibal. “Why not, Will?” Hannibal asked his hand on the doorknob. “We’re not actually married.”

Paling, like he’d be struck in the stomach, Will just stood there, his right hand shaking a little.

Hannibal let himself into the party and apologized for being called away, said his goodbyes, and stepped outside again. “I shall see you at home,” he said to Will with a hard swallow, pocketed his wedding ring, and walked away.

Will watched him go with tears in his eyes he hadn’t expected, but after all they had been through together, it wasn’t surprising either. Will went back in to say he was leaving, apologized, and left. He didn’t go after Hannibal, he instead walked down to the docks, to clear his head and put his mind straight. Hannibal was right, after all, Will was holding on to grudges, unable to fully forgive, keeping ghosts where he had no right to.


	2. Chapter 2

When Will returned home, the house was in it’s usual clean, and unusually quiet state. All of the lights were off, no soft music played, the kitchen was devoid of the scent of baking, or of late night cups of exotic tea. Hannibal’s bedroom door, which had been left ajar every other night, just enough to prove that he was present, that he was home, was shut, tightly, a single light on inside. Will walked past, the walk having not done much for him but feel worse. He’d not been so down since the day he told Hannibal he never wanted to see him again.

He went to his room, changed into the pajamas he never wore, and padded back out to the kitchen. He’d had a lot of wine and one thing to eat before their argument, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything else. So, he poured up a full glass of whiskey and sat in the dark living room.

When dawn made its way over the ocean and lit the kitchen with nearly white light early in the morning, Hannibal walked downstairs to find Will passed out on the couch. His hands moved to grasp a thick throw from the back of the couch, to cover Will, but he resisted the urge and moved into the kitchen to make coffee. Coffee for one.

He had showered, but not bothered to shave. He wore a set of lightly wrinkled scrubs, pale turquoise and standard issue from the hospital, a white lab coat over them. Hannibal seemed unwilling to bother with his usual fussy three-piece suits this morning. He looked like a doctor who had been up, all night, watching a patient die.

The movement in the kitchen woke Will, who rolled off the couch, clutching his head. He’d not drank a lot, but enough. He stumbled to his feet and shuffled into the kitchen, silently, tired eyes looking at everything: from Hannibal’s frumpy form to the single cup of coffee in his hand. Not that coffee sounded great anyway, Will pulled a glass down for water.

“Mornin’.”

“Good morning, Will,” Hannibal said, his voice worn strangely soft. This was one of the first times they’d had to live around each other after a sharp turn in their relationship, after an upset, or a hurt. Usually, such an event separated them physically, at least for a while. Now, they had a front row seat to one another’s suffering.

“New look?” Will gulped down the water, and then filled another glass. His head was throbbing, vision blurred and dizzy, but he’d manage.

Hannibal looked at Will, then at himself, and his coffee. “I’m heading in early to assist with a procedure. I’ll have to change to enter the operating room,” he said, as though he didn’t wear a suit every day no matter what was on his schedule.

“Oh.” Will took a deep breath and pulled down a bottle of Tylenol and took two with his water, and then sat at the table, trying not to feel bad for himself. “I like it.”

Hannibal gave Will a skeptical look and observed the empty whiskey bottle on the living room floor. “I’ll be back late tonight.”

“Do you… want me to get dinner?” Will asked, his mind not at all straight at the moment, but he was trying to get it together. Something was amiss, but after last night, he wasn’t surprised if Hannibal was cold toward him.

Hannibal stared at Will for a moment. “I’ve accepted a full slate of last minute bookings, I’m afraid. I doubt very much I would have time.” Will had come first for so long, that working evenings, as well as days, was the only way Hannibal could conceive of putting anything else first, for now.

“Got it. Too busy to eat. Real… doctorly of you.” Will sighed, finished his water, and then ran a hand down his face. “Well, have a good time with that.”

“It’s work, or arrange to have the backyard paved, I suppose,” Hannibal said, and pulled his coat out of the closet, shrugging it on with the collar up, hair loose and in his face when he did the buttons up. He didn’t add a scarf today, no pop of color, no polish.

Will rolled his eyes when Hannibal wasn’t looking, and then stood, unsteady, walking over to him. His left hand reached out to fix the collar, ring still on. “I’ll fix the backyard. Don’t worry about it.”

Will still smelled a little drunk, and it took everything in Hannibal’s considerable power not to pull Will into the bathroom to start a shower for him, then give him a solid breakfast and send him to bed. Will was his roommate. That was all they were, in private, and Hannibal had to remind himself of that. Like a badly healed injury, Hannibal felt himself re-break his heart over and over again in the hopes that someday it would heal straight. It was agony, every time.

“I look forward to it, Will,” Hannibal said, skeptically, and reminded himself not to put his hand on Will’s waist when he drunkenly fixed Hannibal’s coat collar.

“No, you don’t,” Will said, all too able to see even in his state that Hannibal would rather do it himself than have Will half-ass the job. “And that’s okay. I deserve that.” He patted Hannibal’s shoulder and then moved back, licking his lips once.

Hannibal could not stop his eyes from following the path of Will’s lips, but he stepped back, turning toward the door. “I’ll see you later, Will.”

It felt like six years ago all over again. “Goodbye, Hannibal.”

Hannibal only hesitated for a moment before he let himself out, and headed to the hospital with a heavy, dull feeling in his chest. There was a time he could have tried to ease the feeling with a feast. They could not afford the attention procuring the meat might bring.

Will made himself breakfast, cleaned up, showered, and attempting to feel human by bumming a beer from a neighbor. By afternoon he felt a little bit better, so he planned dinner, it wasn’t much. Chicken, green beans, and rice. He packed some up in the dishes Hannibal took leftovers into work and drove his truck to the hospital.

“I’m looking for Doctor Vidas?” he asked the lady at the desk.

“He’s with a patient at the moment, he’ll be a second. May I say who’s paging him?” she asked, as they waited for Hannibal to call the desk.

“His husband.” Will set the bag down on the desk. She paged him to call her.

Hannibal’s secretary looked somewhat startled. “Oh …” she said, never having seen Will before. “It’s nice to meet you. He talks about you all the time. Is … is everything okay? I can have him paged overhead if this is a family emergency.”

“Yeah. Everything is fine. I brought him dinner, he said he was working late. I didn’t want him to go without eating all day,” Will said, patting the desk with his fingers. “If he’s busy, I can just leave it.”

The phone rang, and Hannibal’s secretary picked up. “Hello. Yes. Your husband is here. He’s brought dinner.” There was a moment’s silence on the other end of the phone, stunned. The secretary hung up, with a smile. “He’ll be right down. They are just finishing up.”

“Thank you.” Will offered his hand, to be polite. “I’m David.”

“Emily,” she said and shook Will’s hand. “I’ll let you into his office if you like,” Emily offered and stood with some keys.

“Please, that would be great.” Will took his hand back and picked up the bag, ready to follow.

Emily showed Will to Hannibal’s office, and unlocked the door, opening it. The office was more modern than his office had been in Baltimore, but just as elegant, with a large screen against one wall devoted to viewing high-quality images of injuries and pathologies. On his desk was one framed photo that faced Hannibal’s leather chair, of Will in Wolf Trap with the sun in his hair while he stood in the stream surrounded by dogs. Will smiled at it, and then sat down, putting the bag of food on the desk, and then set everything out, complete with fork and knife from home, and napkin. He sat in Hannibal’s chair, waiting, looking at everything, but mostly thinking about everything that wasn’t the room.

Hannibal opened the door, and stepped in, showing his surprise at seeing Will there once the door was closed. He looked from Will to the bag on his desk, and back up at Will’s face. “You cooked?”

Will took the empty bag off and set it aside, moving from Hannibal’s chair so he could sit and eat. “I did. It’s… not fancy, I apologize now, but it’s edible.”

Hannibal sat down, slowly, and looked at the plate of food, then Will, and picked up his fork. “It’s a good deal more edible than what is being served in the cafeteria.”

“I couldn’t see you stopping to eat food from the cafeteria,” Will quipped, far soberer than he was that morning, but his demeanor wasn’t much different; a little less cold, a little more open.

“Have you eaten as well?” Hannibal asked as he cut a piece of chicken and noted that Will had brought a cloth napkin, not a paper napkin, and rolled it up, neatly.

“Yes.” Will looked around the room as Hannibal ate, not wanting to watch him and be rude.

“Thank you, for thinking of me,” Hannibal said, between slow, elegant bites. His stubble was thicker over his jaw now, which made Hannibal look rougher and softer at the same time. “How is your head?”

“I managed it.” Will took a deep breath and sat on the edge of Hannibal’s desk, and then remembered, and reached down to the side of the desk and into the bag for the last item, a small bottle of white wine, for one. “I don’t know if you can drink this on the job or not.”

“Fortunately, you’ve caught me after my last procedure. I only have paperwork left this evening.” Hannibal admired the small bottle with a smile. “This is very nice, Will,” Hannibal said, guardedly, but sounded warmer in tone than he had that morning.

“Good.” Will nodded and then stood again. Hannibal sounded warmer, but Will could feel the tension and apprehension. He’d fucked up, big time, and usually, he might like that Hannibal wasn’t happy with him, but something felt off, felt wrong.

He shifted his jaw, fixing his shirt, blue not flannel, with a sweater over it He set the bag down on Hannibal’s desk.

“I won’t keep you if you’re busy then. You can put the dishes back in the bag, I’ll wash them at home.”

Will was obviously trying to win him over, but to what end? Being seduced back into a one-sided infatuation was hardly what Hannibal wanted, but distancing himself brought a peculiar sort of pain with it that reminded him too much of Florence. “Thank you, Will. I won’t be long,” he promised, as a few strands of shiny silver hair fell into Hannibal’s eyes, not styled back as they usually were.

“Okay.” Will bit the inside of his cheek, nodding. He turned to the doorknob, letting himself out. He left Hannibal to think over the food, though dull as it were.

Dull as Will was, honestly.

The drive home was lackluster and Will felt worse than ever. He rubbed a hand over his eyes in the driveway, sitting there in his truck. One of the neighbors saw him and came over, chatting him up.

“You okay, Dave?”

“Yeah, I’m… fine. Long day.”

“Hope that beer helped.”

“It did, thanks.”

“I got a little trouble with the car, was wondering if you could come over tomorrow and take a look while I was at work?” Bob asked, curiously. “Wife will be home, no worries there.”

“Sure. I’ll come have a look.”

“Thanks, Dave.” Bob left and Will slipped from the truck and back into the house, picking up as he went. He started laundry, finished the dishes and then went to his room, the door cracked.

An hour later, Hannibal’s car pulled into the drive, and the doctor let himself into the house. The sound of tea being made drifted upstairs, and dishes from dinner being laid into the sink. Two teacups clinked softly when Hannibal set them on the counter, a return of at least some of their routine, and the smell of tea leaves unfurling in hot water drifted upstairs, like an invitation.

Once again, changed into pajamas bought for him, but never worn, Will stealthily slipped back downstairs, bare feet padding across the wood floors to the kitchen once more. He said nothing while he washed and rinsed the dishes Hannibal had brought back and then dried them.

“Dinner was a welcome surprise,” Hannibal said, where he sat at the breakfast bar with his cup of tea. The darkness of the night sky over the ocean framed his form.

“I thought you’d prefer something homemade over the food served there,” Will said, turning as he dried his hands on the towel and set it back over the oven door handle. “You’re welcome.”

Hannibal looked over Will’s pajamas and took a sip of tea. “You were correct. There is no question that you know me well.”

Tentatively, Will stood on the other side of the bar, watching Hannibal. He’d still yet to take his ring off, and honestly, he hadn’t thought about taking it off all day. It was a weight there that seemed familiar and comfortable. “It’d have been a sight to see you eat cafeteria food, but not one I’d subject you to.”

Hannibal smiled to himself and gave a heavy sigh. “I tried the coffee,” he admitted, unable to stop himself from the warm, soft feeling in his chest when he looked at Will. “Your pajamas suit you.”

“Was it terrible?” Will asked, taking up the extra teacup that had been steeping, and blew on it. “Thanks, someone picked them out for me a while back…” He smiled, teasingly.

“Two years ago,” Hannibal remembered and reminded himself that Will was very capable of deception to get what he wanted. “Yes, the coffee was objectively awful.”

Shrugging, Will took a sip of the tea, his gaze level on Hannibal, not allowing them to part, or shy away. He had to figure things out, get things back to how they were, but that meant a little more self-exploration, and Will wasn’t sure he could do that just yet. “They make it for the masses, what did you expect?”

Hannibal stared back, across the counter at Will, taking in everything about him, slowly, attempting objectivity. “Are you familiar with the Margay cat, Will? They are a small jungle cat with expressive eyes, not to be underestimated.”

Will shook his head slowly, blowing on the hot liquid in the cup before another sip. “I am not.”

“They are solitary, nocturnal hunters popular with photographers for their frankly adorable, perpetually kitten-like appearances.” Hannibal sipped his tea as he studied Will’s large eyes and graceful build.

“Are you comparing me to a wild feline now?” Will asked, feeling reminiscent of the past when Hannibal compared him to a mongoose.

“Perhaps,” Hannibal replied. “In addition to being a clever and adept hunter, the Margay has evolved the ability to mimic a variety of sounds, including the calls of its prey. The Margay is a chameleon, able to lure the object of its attentions close enough to seize.”

Hannibal’s apprehension to Will was enough to make the empath’s hackles and walls rise a little further, his forts pitched for now. “A very remarkable sort of hunter.”

“Quite,” Hannibal agreed, able to see Will become indignant at the comparison. “One can hardly blame the other inhabitants of the Margay’s hunting grounds for their caution.”

“I suppose not.” Will sipped his tea, taking that in. Hannibal had a right to feel as he did, Will was not so innocent as he lead most to believe, but he meant nothing malice in his actions toward Hannibal either.

“Is this an imitation, Will?” Hannibal asked, calmly. “Or your true voice?”

Mirroring others was second nature to Will, it’s how he adapted, how he survived. He couldn’t help it any more than Hannibal could analyze people. “A little of both.”

“It is a question you must ask yourself, as much as it is a question I must ask of you,” Hannibal said, and sipped his tea again. Steam from the drink curled around his face, slipping through his loose hair.

“I see someone suffering, I empathize and do what I can, while trying remaining true to my nature,” Will answered, honestly. He swallowed, setting the cup down on the counter. “You are upset with me for things we never spoke about. Now you refuse to talk to me, as we do, and that leaves a hole in me. But… I’m not the only one at fault for not speaking up, Hannibal.”

“A reflex to lessen my suffering is a terrible substitute for authentic desire, Will,” Hannibal said, softly, but solidly. “I would rather my feelings remain unrequited than tended to like a wound out of pity.”

“I have never pitied you, Hannibal,” Will commented with a shift of his jaw. “I don’t like the upset between us. I am trying to be more communicative.”

“In that case, Will, I would caution you to be clear and unshakeable certain of what you want to communicate before you attempt to communicate it,” Hannibal said, and stood, walking to Will, facing him.

Will turned to meet Hannibal eye-to-eye. “Can I ask the same of you? Can I ask that you drop the metaphors and prodding around without saying what it is you really want?”

Hannibal raised his eyebrows, and swallowed, then looked to the space next to Will. “You’re certain that you’re prepared to hear the unvarnished truth of the matter, Will?”

Hands on his hips, Will shrugged with a cant of his head toward Hannibal. This was a delicate and uneasy territory for him. He’d had a lot of feelings about Hannibal, even love, even _now_ , but how they were handled was territory he didn’t understand or know how to navigate. “Anything other than that you love me because I know that much. I’ve known for years.”

Hannibal’s gaze moved back to Will, intense with emotion as his throat squeezed tight. Only Will could strangle Hannibal without laying a finger on him. He managed to breathe again, trying to steel himself. “When, and how did you come to that conclusion?” Hannibal asked after what felt like a year of dry silence.

“Days before I helped you escape from the BSHCI,” Will said with a shift of his jaw, letting out a slightly jagged breath, licking his teeth once. “I had been going to Bedelia for ‘therapy’ while I worked the case of the Great Red Dragon. Often, we only talked about you. It dawned on me that you were very capable of love, that I had presumed wrong about you, and I asked her. She confirmed that you were in love with me.”

Hannibal stared at Will, openly, then looked aside. “Yes, do remind me to pay Bedelia a visit, for that.”

He walked to the wine cabinet and drew a bottle from the shelves, opening it quickly and smoothly.

“She’d be deserving,” Will stated watching Hannibal carefully, but not moving from his spot. If she were alive at all. But that was for another time. “And she knows it.”

Hannibal poured himself a larger glass of nearly black wine than usual and offered some to Will. “What was your reaction, Will?” he asked, enunciating every word with great care.

Only when offered did Will walked over to take a glass. “Surprise. Uh, confusion.” He chuckled nervously at that. “I didn’t know what to think, or how that changed anything. I told myself I’d go back to Molly and that would be it. But, I don’t know, I knew that wouldn’t work, it wasn’t going to be the same, and you and I… we’re just too conjoined to be separated. I tried, but see where that’s gotten us…”

“We’ve both tried,” Hannibal sighed, and sipped his wine after handing a glass to Will. He stared at Will for a moment, thoughtfully. “Horror was not one of your reactions to Bedelia’s disclosure.”

“Some might think you a monster, Hannibal, but I’ve chosen to see past that. I’m just as much a monster as you are, in any right, even if I don’t want to think of myself as one.” Will took the glass and sniffed it once before tasting it.

“It may be a little dark, for you,” Hannibal said as he watched Will drink. “Perhaps too strong.”

“Do you believe that to be the truth?” Will asked, quiet as he took another tentative sip. It was dark and jammy, almost sweet.

“I believe that you have a malleable identity, Will. The parts of your identity of which you are certain, you, therefore, hold dear, and any challenge to them, to your precious scraps of central identity, are met with tooth and claw. Perhaps rightly so. Learning of my feelings for you challenged several tenets of your identity that had weathered other storms.” Hannibal took a deep breath and swallowed a mouthful of darkness to replenish his nerve.

“You believe I'm fighting something that dares to threaten who I am at the core.” Will sighed, Hannibal was not wrong. Will was aware of himself but often there was flowing, fluid change that stopped him from moving forward and pushed it to the back of his mind.

“I believe you are fighting something that dares to threaten who _you_ believe you are. Self-identity is much less easily altered and amended than social identity,” Hannibal noted, softly. “Becoming the man in love with Hannibal Lecter is a prospect that challenges not only your decency, and your status as a victim, but also your heterosexuality. I have noticed that no matter what else may change about you, your demonstrated preference for women, at least publicly, never wavers.”

“I have never loved a man before you. It's a frightening thought and emotion I don't know how to express. I've never had a preference, just experiences.”

Hannibal became very still and seemed to stop breathing for a moment as he held his wine tightly so that he did not drop it. A thousand possible ways that Will could be testing him rushed through Hannibal’s mind, and he had to remind himself to blink when his eyes began to burn.

He tried to speak, and took a long drink of his wine, instead. “Loved…”

Will rolled his eyes as Hannibal, of course, took every bit of what he said and analyzed it for what it was not. “This would not be difficult for me if I didn't love you. I have emotional imbalances in what I should or should not feel for you. The right thing is not to, but we are past all that. I struggle because of my own issues, not because _of_ you.”

Hannibal’s high, aristocratic cheekbones flushed deeply pink, as did his throat, and he took a deep, slow breath as he processed Will’s words. Will’s _love_ threw sand in the finely tuned gears of his mind and ground everything to a halt.

He managed to take a drink of his wine, mostly able to hide how his hand shook, and looked up at the ceiling to dry his eyes.

“Love and being in love are two very different things,” Hannibal said, softly. “It is entirely possible to love someone and disapprove of their actions, their character, their feelings toward you.”

It was Will’s nature to deflect and deny Hannibal that of what he wanted from him because he didn’t know how to reciprocate. It was how he dealt with uncomfortable situations in which he had no idea how to react otherwise. Their banter, their meals, and quips, it was Will’s way of showing his love, of being comfortable in what he knew.

“I would be a hypocrite to disapprove of you now.”

“I’m afraid, Will, it is my turn to ask you to speak plainly,” Hannibal said, steeling himself as he held his wine glass in one hand. “Could you ever feel for me, what I feel for you?”

“Yes.” That was not to say it would not still be difficult, as Will didn’t know how to approach those things, and putting up walls and barriers, and arguing over plants was all he had as a defense, all he had to deflect and keep going on the way they had been--comfortable and content without having to move into more intimate territory, physically.

They stared at each other when Will’s word hung in the air like the toll of a bell, echoing. Hannibal could feel his heart beating in his throat, and his eyes going wet, all at once. He nodded, softly, and finished his glass of wine, then set it down, very gently, still staring at Will.

“I will wait,” he said, with a loyalty he’d never had for anyone before, even Will, in the past. “When and if you come to terms with how your feelings shape and reshape you, I will not be far, I promise.”

Will’s glass stayed in his hands, having not drunk much of it after his bout of over drinking the night before. He swallowed hard, wondering if Hannibal meant that, or if another few months down the line he would grow tired of waiting, tired of what they had, and this would happen all over again. “Okay. Thank you.”

After three years of waiting with no hint that Will might feel the same way beyond making a show of it at social events, Hannibal had tired of hoping. He looked at Will with brighter eyes now, and although he wanted to embrace him, shaking inside with the need to touch Will, he occupied his hands by pouring another glass of wine. The bottle of blood-in-the-moonlight dark wine had become celebratory instead of a consolation. “That said, of course, I feel that I must make it clear that I’d much rather have you as a beloved housemate for the rest of my days than a moment of physical touch that you did not pursue from a place of genuine desire, Will,” Hannibal said, soberly and seriously. “I am not that kind of monster.”

Grounding himself with a deep breath, Will nodded his head. He could argue, he could point out the way Hannibal had gone about this was wrong, but in pursuit of keeping peace and no dead silences between them, Will didn’t.

“I know you’re not. I only ask patience of you, and in return, I will… try to knock down a few of my walls. Do some remodeling.”

“Renovations are always twice as costly and three times as expensive as originally estimated,” Hannibal murmured, with a touch of good humor, and smiled at Will over his glass, his heart still beating hard in his chest.

“I’m not going to be a price on our relationship or my issues that need reevaluating,” Will answered, quietly, finally taking another sip of the dark wine, longer this time.

“I do know a tolerable psychiatrist,” Hannibal teased, gently, a little of an old mental wound showing when he uttered the word _tolerable_. “However, he’s no longer practicing.”

Will winced at the word, six years standing since then, and people are bound to change, just as Will has changed in some way more than others, even if he didn’t want to admit that. “I wouldn’t be here if I only tolerated you.”

“Not even when the alternative is a lifetime of imprisonment after a public trial?” Hannibal asked, softly. “There have been moments in the last three years I’ve been sure of it.”

Drinking the last bit of his glass of wine, Will set it down on the table, sighing. “No, not even then. You try my patience sometimes, but I am sure I try yours too.”

Hannibal’s gaze drifted over the line of Will’s forearm and his hand as he set the glass down, and then gave Will a fond, but exasperated look. “I’m convinced, Will, that you have tested my patience as a deliberate attempt to preserve distance between us. There are only so many times a man can be asked to mend a permanently grease-stained bit of flannel.”

“Maybe a little,” Will admitted, aware that his own mind had convinced him that to preserve what they had, he had to keep the distance. He wasn’t sure how to move past it.

“I also suspect that your reluctance to personalize the house in any permanent way is an attempt to maintain distance between us. If you keep the house from becoming more than a temporary shelter, there is no danger in becoming too attached to it as a home, or to memories made within its walls,” Hannibal pointed out. “Which brings us to the matter of the peach trees.”

“Why haven’t you said anything until now?” Will asked, more than aware as Hannibal spoke that he did do these things for exactly those reasons. It wasn’t that he didn’t like it here, or that he didn’t love Hannibal, it was that he had no idea how to do any of this with Hannibal. They’d never spoken about what they expected of each other, things simply were.

“If I had, would you not have thought I was attempting to manipulate your perception?” Hannibal asked. “I was certain such a confrontation would have ended quite badly, even for us.” Hannibal went to the counter, and cut a slice of peach galette for Will, then offered it to him with a fork, quite aware that Will had been over-drinking, and under-eating.

Will took the offered plate but only stared at it for a moment. He was stubborn, he knew that. “Possibly. Our history with each other doesn’t give us much to stand on.” Hannibal cut himself a slice, and took it to the kitchen table near the window, then pulled a chair out for Will before he sat down. The chair sat angled toward Will, an invitation. “Your hackles raise when I challenge your perception of reality, Will. I cannot deny that I have abused that trust in the past. In the last three years, I have therefore attempted to interfere as little as I could with your management of your own psyche.”

Will set the plate on the table first, hand shaking a little, and then sat down in the offered chair, taking up the fork to cut a bite. “Maybe now is a good time to talk it through. To set our expectations and boundaries. As we should have when we got here.”

With Will in his pajamas and Hannibal in rumpled scrubs, the two men sat very much as they had during their first meal together: breakfast in Will’s hotel room in Minnesota. “I’d like that very much, Will. Would you care to go first, or shall I?”

Thoughtful, Will took the bite and chewed for a moment, gazing at Hannibal. They’d covered a lot of ground already. “I want us to be open and honest with each other. I think it would be easier than assuming. With that, I just want your understanding while I work through my... stuff.”

“Very well. I agree,” Hannibal said, after swallowing his bite of their shared dessert. “If, at any time you realize that you could not possibly feel toward me as I feel toward you, I would like to be told immediately and frankly,” Hannibal said, with a serious expression.

Will was sure that wouldn’t happen, but he nodded his head anyway, agreeing. “I agree. I can do that.” He took another bite, washing down the taste of the wine with more sweet peach dessert.

“We will maintain separate bedrooms and bathrooms as we do now until you decide that you’d like to change that,” Hannibal said, after a moment’s thought. “As the one who is coming to grips with accepting intimacy, you must be the one to control the pace of any changes in our relationship, whenever they occur. If you are not comfortable with those changes, you are obligated to tell me.”

The idea of being tolerated had haunted Hannibal since that day in Wolftrap. It was horrifying to him that Will had merely _put up with_ him, that any acceptance he’d felt from Will had been an illusion. Hannibal never wanted to feel merely tolerated again. If Will did not want him, he needed to hear it at the time, not days, weeks, or months after the fact.

“ _If_ that should happen, I’ll let you know. Until then, maybe we can just take things very slowly,” Will offered, looking down at his dessert as he cut off another bite. He might have wanted to see Hannibal suffer a little, but after seeing the torment and quite rampage for a day, Will was quite sure he never wanted to see it again.

“I do not mind slow,” Hannibal said, after swallowing, unable to help the barest smirk in Will’s direction over the table. “Like peach trees, pastry, and wine, good things take time, Will.”

“Okay.” It’s all Will needed right now while he worked through his feelings, and trying to overcome his own personal hurdles. He took the last bite, licking the rest from the utensil. “Anything else?”

“I would like you to prepare dinner for me,” Hannibal said after a little thought. “Once a week.”

“My cooking wasn’t _that_ good,” Will stated, but he nodded his agreement. “So long as you don’t criticise it.”

“More than the food itself, I enjoyed consuming something prepared by your hand,” Hannibal said, honestly. “Even in Baltimore, before I met you, there were few who dared to cook for me.”

“No one knows you like I do, either.” Will smiled, almost proudly at that. “I realized bringing you dinner today that no one at the hospital knows who I am…”

Hannibal smiled sadly at that and looked at their wedding rings. “You’re a marine mechanic in high demand with little interest in radiology,” he reasoned. “I may have mentioned hospitals make you squeamish.”

“Was me showing up out of character then?” Will laughed, smiling openly at Hannibal. “I’d like to try and come by more often.”

“It was a welcome surprise,” Hannibal said. “I wouldn’t mind that, at all,” he admitted, as he gazed at Will’s dazzling smile.

“Maybe I’ll make you dinner on the nights you’re working late,” Will offered. “If that’s suitable for you.”

“I’d look forward to it,” Hannibal said, with a genuine smile. “I’ll make certain that I have time cleared for dinner with you, in my office.” His heart skipped a beat, happily, no longer high in his throat with dread.

“Deal. But, you have to let me know the day of, please.”

“I’m working late tomorrow evening,” Hannibal said, after laying his dessert fork down, across his now empty plate. Will had never enquired about his schedule before, he’d never been interested in working around it.

“Tomorrow then.” Will stood, gathering their dishes and took them to wash.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Will woke earlier than usual. He showered and dressed, put the coffee on first, and renewed pep in his step. He figured if he wanted something positive to come of this, he had to start being positive about it. He set out two plates and set about making batter for French Toast, using the leftover french bread from a meal two nights prior.

Hannibal woke at the sound of Will working in the kitchen downstairs, dressed in his long, deep blue housecoat, and walked into the kitchen. He watched Will, curiously. “Did you sleep well, Will?” Hannibal asked as he moved closer to bring two coffee cups down for them both from the cupboards.

“I slept okay. You?” Will asked, setting slices of toast into the well-buttered frying pan. He cast a glance over at Hannibal.

“Much better than the night previous,” Hannibal admitted. Nothing had really changed between them, and yet, everything had changed.

“Good to hear.” Will nodded to the coffee, nothing fancy like perhaps Hannibal made, but it was his variation, a little apology for how he had been. He was really going to start trying to work on himself, instead of ignoring himself.

Hannibal smiled, and poured coffee into their mugs, then handed one to Will. Will seemed intent, from the moment he woke up, on meeting Hannibal halfway, less of a resentful, passive participant.

It felt as though spring had arrived, early.

“Thank you,” Will said taking the mug, their fingers brushing for an instant. He stirred in a lump of sugar, keeping an eye on the grilling toast as he took a sip.

“I trust you will have a busy day in the garage?” Hannibal asked as he added a touch of cream to his own coffee.

“I’ve promised to go look at Bob’s car. Engine or something.” Will gave a shrug, as though he was just being nice, he honestly would rather just stick to his garage than have to be social with anyone else. “Then I’m making dinner for my husband and taking it to work for him, again.”

Hannibal smiled to himself and flushed a little. “He appreciates it,” he assured Will, happily, gazing at Will over his coffee cup.

Flipping the toast over, golden brown on one side now, Will reached for two plates. “He might not once he realizes my cooking doesn’t hold a candle to his own.”

“I’m sure with experience, you will develop your own specialties,” Hannibal murmured, flushing a little more deeply.

“I don’t think you’ll enjoy my fish recipes,” Will replied, smiling over at Hannibal with another sip of his coffee. “But if you don’t mind trying them, I’ll do that tonight.”

“I’m quite happy to help,” Hannibal said, softly, lost in the little smile that Will gave him. “Will you catch it yourself, today?” Hannibal asked, able to remember feeding Will his own catches.

“If I get time, I’d like to,” Will answered, and flipped their French Toast onto the plates, buttering up each piece and then a swirl of maple syrup over each one. He turned the stove off and handed Hannibal his plate.

“Thank you,” Hannibal said, as their fingers brushed, again. He pulled Will’s chair out at the breakfast table as a courtesy and sat across from the vacant chair. “Did you dream at all?”

Will’s dreams were always fascinating, at least to Hannibal.

“I dreamed of the stag for the first time in a while,” Will said, taking a seat, and then cut into the decadent toast and took a bite. “It wasn’t incredibly vivid. I was at the stream back in Wolf Trap for most of it.”

“What was the stag doing, in your dream?” Hannibal asked, after a sip of coffee. The morning sun lost itself in Will’s hair, lighting it almost angelic.

“Watching me.” Will chuckled, a wisp of smile over at Hannibal as he put another bite in my mouth. “I imagine he has been for a while. Watching, waiting…”

“Do you miss Wolftrap?” Hannibal asked, and tried the french toast, which was very good, for a beginner.

Will used to make breakfast for Molly and Wally, but it’d been a while.

“I do. The quietness, the open fields, and streams. I consider Wolf Trap as some of the better times, but not the best of times, in my life.” Will watched Hannibal’s reaction, hoping that his attempt was good enough, and not too subpar.

“Dare I ask about the best times?” Hannibal asked, one eyebrow raised as he cut another piece.

“Our times together,” Will said, remembering it being the best moments, to be understood, to not have his brain on fire, to connect wholly with another human being.

“I could say the same,” Hannibal said, honestly. “Seeing you again, in front of the Primavera.”

Will smiled the way he had then, almost with relief at being around Hannibal again. Though they lived together now, it had been as though he’d been walking through a dream for years, distant and ignoring, afraid to get too close, afraid of what might just happen. “That was a good moment, for a fleeting second.”

“The good moments frequently are, no matter whom they are with,” Hannibal said, after swallowing some french toast. “Sustained happiness is a rare thing.”

“I’ve hardly known it,” Will admitted, though he was starting to realize that most of that was his own fault. He set up barriers, he refused to change. “I want that to change though.”

Hannibal’s eyes caught the morning sun and for a moment seemed to glow. “If anyone is capable of becoming truly content in each other’s company, I believe we could. I am my most authentic with you. Your presence is so comfortable that I sometimes forget we are separate people.”

Will had been content, but not happy. Now that he knew, he was going to work on letting things return to how they used to be. “We blurred once, we can do it again.”

“Blended, perhaps. I have come to develop a taste for your peculiarities,” Hannibal said, fondly. “A result of years of cohabitation.”

Will smiled over at Hannibal once more, relaxing back in the chair as he ate, long legs spreading out a bit, touching Hannibal’s foot with his own. “Had we had this conversation yesterday you wouldn’t be saying that.”

“Perspective is a powerful thing,” Hannibal chuckled, softly. “I would, however, find the house quite lonely without walking into nearly trip over your boots in the doorway.”

“I can move them,” Will offered, more than willing to be a little cooperative, even if that wasn’t what Hannibal was getting at.

“You could, of course,” Hannibal noted, “but what would you do about the socks hidden like bodies, down the sides of the sofa cushions?”

Will stuffed the last bite into his mouth. “It's not that bad,” he murmured.

“The sofa is due for its monthly cleaning, Will. Shall we count the number of your old socks from a minor excavation?” Hannibal teased, as he ate.

“You clean out the couch monthly?” Will raised his brows, head ticked to the side slightly, incredulously.

“Of course,” Hannibal said, just as incredulously. “My husband would run out of socks if I only cleaned the couch bi-annually.” He smirked and finished his french toast.

Will added another task to his list for the day to take one more thing off Hannibal's load. “I'll try to put them in the laundry.” He took their plates to the kitchen to wash.

“My point is, of course, that if our discussion last night had soured our relationship, I would miss those signs of your presence, Will.” He looked down, into his coffee. “There were moments in the BSHCI when I missed your terrible aftershave.”

Will chuckled from the sink, glancing over at Hannibal. “Could have fooled me when I walked in that day for your help.”

“I have always been curious, Will,” Hannibal said, as he followed Will to the sink. “Why did you come for my help?”

“I had been out of the mindset of the work for years. I needed your help to get me back into it,” Will answered, washing the dishes and then the pan.

“If I had died, what would you have done, then?” Hannibal asked, lightly.

“Died while in there? Or died at the hand of the Great Red Dragon?” Will asked, for clarification.

“Died, while in prison. Perhaps of the terrible food,” Hannibal reasoned, wryly. “Could you have worked again, without me?”

Will dried the dishes while he thought that over. “I’m sure I could have tried. Would I have been as successful? I don’t know. But, a lot of things would have been different if you died.”

Hannibal stood next to Will as they spoke, facing him as Will washed dishes. Hannibal adored that Will only seemed to wash dishes by hand, and always took his time. “You would likely still be living with your family,” Hannibal said, the first he had mentioned of them since he and Will had vanished, together.

Swallowing hard, Will shook his head. “Maybe, but what kind of life would it have been? I was disillusioned. A family I could fit myself into and be that good man so many people thought I was, it… was easy.”

“That depends, I suppose, on how long it took until the rage you felt at yourself for choosing to live a lie became displaced onto the family that you used for camouflage,” Hannibal said, thoughtfully and softly. “It is entirely possible that in your later years after your regrets had piled themselves like logs in a fire, that you may have taken to drinking more and more often, and lashed out.”

“Possibly.” Will dried the last dish and set it on the counter with the other and then turned to Hannibal. “Darkness only grows when you ignore it, it becomes angry. _That_ kind of darkness anyway.”

“Another kind of darkness can be grown, of course. Some darkness flourishes when tended to and cared for, as we both know.” That was something no one else, especially not Will’s temporary family facade, would ever be able to understand about Will. “The two processes differ as much as the creation of wine differs from the creation of vinegar. One can be enjoyed, often. The other is best used sparingly.”

“Which brand is my darkness?” Will asked, setting the towel down after wiping his hands, and picked up his mug to finish his coffee, eyes never leaving Hannibal’s.

“Some of both, to be perfectly honest,” Hannibal said, as he watched Will’s hands work over the mug. Will was a joy to watch when he did any work with his hands. “Luckily, I enjoy both wine and vinegar.”

“Of course you do,” Will said with a smile and set the mug down with the other dishes. “I’m lucky that way. I don’t have to be one way or the other. I… can just be with you.”

“So long as you are honest with yourself, I accept everything about you, Will, no matter how dark, no matter how sharp,” Hannibal murmured, and smiled at Will as his eyes traced the path of an errant curl, which he tucked behind Will’s ear.

This time, Will leaned into the touch, just so. “I’m working on that.”

Hannibal swallowed hard when Will leaned into the light touch. His fingers seemed to hum where they touched Will’s skin for just a moment, and Hannibal felt light inside, airy. “I cannot think of anything I would deny you so long as you were honest in desiring it.”

What frightened Hannibal, to his core, was that if Will honestly wanted to be rid of him. If he honestly wanted, to the core of his being, to be married to Molly instead, Hannibal knew that he would step aside.

“I think I’d feel less...empty if I was honest with myself and not angry all the time,” Will murmured. “I’ve spent three years of our lives together on that already.”

“We have many more ahead of us, Will,” Hannibal assured Will. “Most men spend a much more significant portion of their lives engaged in self-deception. Although, assuredly, not as skillfully as you do.”

“Thanks,” Will said with a look as he touched Hannibal’s side to walk by him. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiled back at Hannibal.

The part of Hannibal’s robe that opened over his chest displayed a startling flush of color when Will touched his side like that, and he had the feeling that the next few months were going to be full of unbecoming flashes of red over whatever part of his skin Will chose to touch. Hannibal poured more coffee for himself and offered some to Will. “When are you due next door?”

“I have no idea,” Will sighed, and took another cup of coffee, lingering for a bit longer, since he didn’t really want to go, and Hannibal was still home.

“To whom is Bob married, again?” Hannibal asked, unable to recall. He kept a nodding acquaintance with their next-door neighbors, which was the best way to avoid having neighbors inclined to “drop by” without notice.

“Barb. Ironic, Barb and Bob,” Will rolled his eyes, taking a sip of coffee, standing closer to Hannibal than he had in the past, but now that they were _really_ talking, his felt his orbit start to change, pulling him in.

“Barb isn’t the troublesome woman from the other night, is she?” Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head. One of his trains of thought began to file through recipe cards, with interest.

“I really hope not,” Will sighed, not interesting in keeping up with their neighbors that much.

“If she insists on hanging off of you, we can always have fish some other time,” Hannibal said, with an upward quirk to the end of his lips that suggested he was joking … somewhat.

“We haven’t actually had _anybody_ for dinner in a while,” Will teased back, a glint in his eyes. He’d not prepared anyone either since he cooked with Hannibal the one night.

Hannibal caught the glint in Will’s eyes and stepped closer, still not touching him, as promised. “No. I wasn’t inspired until the party, to be honest,” he said, and remembered with a surge of nostalgia and sadness the evening he thought that he and Will had cooked Freddie Lounds together.

“She made you that mad?” Will stepped a little closer. They’d always been just out of reach of each other, having only really touched when it was necessary, or needed. Will tugged gently on Hannibal’s robe to cover up more of him, but really he just wanted to be closer.

“So far as she knows, you are my lawfully wedded husband,” Hannibal said, as Will fussed with his robe. “As you said yourself, you were clear about rejecting her advances. Her persistence struck me as particularly rude, on multiple levels.”

“It was. She was drunk, too.” Will sighed, resting his hand on Hannibal’s waist. “I’m glad you believe me now.”

“You are uniquely persuasive,” Hannibal nearly purred when Will came closer, the pupils of his brown eyes wide and dark as he gazed at Will, and rested one hand against Will’s back, lightly.

“Only once you’ve calmed down.” Will leaned in a little, taking in Hannibal warmth, strange to have it when they weren’t in the public eye, and yet soothing in so many other ways, as though he’d wasted decades to be touched.

“I was very calm,” Hannibal whispered, unable to recall the fury he had actually felt inside when Will was this close. “I never raise my voice, Will.” There was no audience this time, just the two of them, alone in their kitchen. Hannibal’s heart felt as though it was changing time signatures every two bars of the song it was playing.

Will’s hand slipped up Hannibal’s chest and then around his shoulders, putting them chest-to-chest, eye-to-eye. “That’s the worst part of it. The not yelling. It’s like the eye of the storm, inside a hurricane.”

Hannibal held his breath when Will’s hand moved over his chest, and he reminded himself that Will didn’t have to do this. There was nothing for Will to gain by charming him this way. “The Hurricane Wendigo?” Hannibal asked, softly, as he memorized the gentle pressure of Will’s hand against his shoulder, and flattened his palm against Will’s back.

Smiling, amused, Will nodded his head, an errant curl dropping down into his face. “That’s a good name for it.”

“You’d rather I shouted?” Hannibal asked, after reaching up to brush Will’s dark, silky curl out of his remarkable eyes. “I’d rather not.”

“No. I wouldn’t rather that.” This was nice to Will, holding and being held, closer than they had been, and not too far apart. He’d missed real human interaction, having forgotten how nice it was to be touched, to be held like it was actually something.

“I’d much rather have you in the eye of the storm, with me, than subjected to the gales,” Hannibal murmured, fondly, and ran his hand over Will’s back, a little, his fingers tracing the spinous processes of Will’s vertebrae as he committed them to memory.

“It’s a good thing I’m a very good sailor,” Will whispered as he inched his arm around Hannibal’s shoulders a little more, resting their heads together, for now, enjoying the moment.

Once more, Hannibal held his breath and closed his eyes as their faces touched. “Part sailor, and part siren,” Hannibal whispered, reminded of how easily Will had seduced him, long ago, luring him to his doom.

“Not anymore,” Will promised, wrapping his other arm around Hannibal.

“So you say,” Hannibal whispered with a smile, and noted that his heart was pounding. He let his free hand settle against Will’s waist and felt almost as though a bird had landed on his finger. One wrong move and it would fly away.

“You’ll just have to trust me.” Will’s eyes closed, taking in their moment, calm and soothing, the beat of Hannibal’s heart against his rhythmically.

Hannibal tightened his arms, just a little and breathed with Will. “I think it is far too late for me to decide not to trust you, Will,” he whispered. It nearly felt like they should be swaying, without music.

They were quiet as they lightly swayed, but without moving their feet, just holding each other as though they’d been doing this since they fell off the cliff together. Will sighed, content. “I like this.”

“This is something you might be comfortable with? On a daily basis?” Hannibal asked as he did his best not to do anything that might change Will’s mind, or scare him off.

“Yes. I could get used to this,” Will whispered, resting their faces together, cheek to cheek, standing like this as though they were made to fit together.

Will’s cheek was rough, slightly coated with stubble against Hannibal’s smooth cheek. It reminded him of the edge of the cliff, and the moment of utter bliss before they’d fallen together. “I may never recover from this sort of intimacy, Will,” Hannibal murmured, with a smile in his voice. “I’ve never taken such pleasure in simply being close, not to anyone.”

“Neither of will,” he replied, softly, and pressed their cheeks together a little more, a heat radiating between them. It was nice to be close, to be needed, without so much more than to be held.

Hannibal gripped his fingers against the back of Will’s shirt, softly, clinging to it with one hand as if he was sure Will would be pulled away from him at any moment. Will’s body resting against his own was solid and warm, just as dense with muscle as it had been when they embraced last, after slaying a dragon. He nuzzled Will’s ear, softly, and buried his nose in Will’s hair with a small shudder of happiness. “I should hope not.”

A shiver ran through Will’s spine, his shoulders aching from it, and pressed in that little bit closer. This was where they should have been all along. Will gripped Hannibal’s tight, humming his approval. They’d have to part soon, but Will wasn’t in a rush.

Hannibal seemed to sense Will’s ache and used his free hand to rub Will’s shoulders, gently as they all but clung to one another in the middle of their sun-filled kitchen. Hannibal’s arm then wrapped tightly around Will’s back, keeping his husband locked close. Their chests were pressed together so intimately that Hannibal could count Will’s heart beats, and knew that Will’s pulse was racing too. “My day at the hospital will seem like a Sisyphean ordeal,” Hannibal sighed.

“At least it will be busy for you,” Will commented, quietly, not daring to break apart just yet. This was too good, and he was sure if he pulled back now, things might just crumble. “You’ll have dinner to look forward to.”

“I will count the hours,” Hannibal promised, as he curled his hand a little more against Will’s back, in his shirt, and let his other hand touch Will’s hair. It was enough to make the typically controlled doctor want to throw his pager into the ocean bay.

“I promise there will be more of this,” Will whispered next to Hannibal’s ear, holding the doctor tightly to him. “Maybe we’ll put on music next time.”

“Do you dance, Will?” Hannibal asked. His eyes were still closed, and Hannibal wore the expression of a large cat laying in a warm beam of sunshine when Will held him.

“I’ve been known to on very, very rare full moons,” Will teased, rubbing his cheek against Hannibal’s. “As long as we’re not picking up the pace.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Hannibal managed, with a slight hitch in his cultured tone when Will nuzzled him like that. “I would sooner rush through a feast.”

“So, dinner brought to you, then when you’re home, we’ll have a drink and dance a little,” Will offered, pulling back only enough to look at Hannibal for agreement.

Hannibal’s eyes were the color of melting chocolate, and he beamed at Will, happily. “That sounds blissful,” he agreed and allowed Will to pull back as much as he needed to, loosening his arms. He couldn’t remember looking forward to anything more than a simple dinner at work, and then an evening holding his _husband_ close.

Will’s eyes traced Hannibal’s features, slowly, and then met his own once more. “Need me to get anything from the store?”

“Surprise me,” Hannibal said, as they gazed at each other, even their breathing in sync. “You’ve always been able to manage that, Will.”

***

Much to Will’s chagrin, Bob’s wife was the woman from the party. He managed to avoid her, fix the car engine, and get out. He did what work he could at home, cleaned up, fished out socks from the sofa, and went down to fish. He caught a few, not many, but enough. Dinner was a simple pilaf, roast squash, and baked fish. He packed it all up and drove to the hospital once more.

“Here for Doctor Vidas,” he told the girl behind the desk, once more.

“He said you would be by,” Emily smiled, and picked up the phone, using it to page Hannibal. “His office is open. He’ll join you in a moment.”

“Thanks.” Will walked off to Hannibal’s office and, pushing the door open and closing it. Just as the night before, he set everything out on the table and unwrapped the dishes and containers, setting his spot for Hannibal.

Hannibal opened the door, with a soft smile. He was wearing a crisp white coat over dress pants, a blue shirt, and stylish tie, much more put together than he had been the day before. “Hello, Will.”

“ _Doctor_ Lecter,” Will greeted quietly with a coy smile, sitting on the edge of Hannibal’s desk.

Hannibal looked like he melted inside, and moved closer to embrace Will for a moment, still tentatively. “Dinner smells very good. Did you have a fruitful day on the pier?”

“I did,” Will replied and stood to hug Hannibal properly, still getting used to that, but it felt like the right thing when he did it.

Hannibal closed his eyes, and nuzzled the side of Will’s face, then pulled back. “Everything smells incredible, for fish,” Hannibal teased.

“Ha ha.” Will smiled back and then pulled away to take the foil off the plate that was keeping it hot. “It’s not fancy, but it should taste good.”

Hannibal sat behind his desk and picked up his knife and fork. “Did you already eat?” He asked Will.

“I ate as I made it,” Will confessed, taking a seat once more, perched on the side of Hannibal’s desk, linger closer to him than he might usually, unable to help it now that he allowed it.

“Next time you should bring your own, we can dine together,” Hannibal said, so enchanted by Will that he had to remind himself to eat.

“I thought about it,” Will said with a shrug and handed Hannibal a wine glass from the bag and poured a tiny bottle of table white wine for him. “I’d rather watch you and see that you enjoy it.”

“I feel the same when I cook for you,” Hannibal said, as his chest flushed again, and took a bite of the fish, savoring it.

“Is it alright?” Will asked, rubbing his hands on his thighs, almost nervous about what Hannibal thought of his cooking.

“It’s very good,” Hannibal told Will, honestly, and took another bite.

Will smiled and then pressed his lips together. “I’ll have to find some recipes and mix things up a little. Meat and rice is going to become boring for you.”

“I don’t mind, Will. Sometimes, something simple and clean is refreshing after years of rich intricacy,” he said and offered Will a little fish.

Will leaned over to take the bite, licking his lips, and then chewed. “So long as it’s up to par.”

“It reminds me of Wolftrap, full of simple, natural appeal,” Hannibal murmured, approvingly, as he watched Will’s lips, and sipped his wine. “How has your day been?”

“Busy. I got everything done, though.” Will’s foot swayed, dangling from the desk where he sat, and brushed against Hannibal’s knee.

“Will you need to work this weekend?” Hannibal asked, and felt his breath hitch when their knees touched.

“I shouldn’t have to.” Will smiled, every touch seemed like first time, as if they hadn’t touched, ever. He felt like a teenager all over again.

“Neither should I, barring an emergency, of course.” Hannibal hesitated for a moment, “we could take your boat out onto the open waters if you like.”

Will was going to suggest tree shopping but smiled even brighter when Hannibal suggested something else entirely. “You want to go out on the boat with me?”

“I enjoy seeing you in your element. Provided, of course, we have a heated cabin,” Hannibal said with a soft smile.

Will was most at home on or in the water.

“The cabin is heated,” Will said, brows raised with happy surprise that Hannibal wanted to go at all. “You’ll be warm and toasty inside with me.”

“Are you really so surprised, Will? Surely you don’t think me that much of a hothouse flower that I wouldn’t board a boat?” Hannibal asked, amused.

“No, I just… didn’t think you’d be interested in all that.” Will picked up Hannibal’s fork for him and offered him a bite.

Hannibal chuckled and took his fork. “I was too absorbed in our conversation, my apologies,” he said, before eating.

Will let the fork go with a little smile. “Cold fish isn’t always so great.”

“It was much more a comment on how distracting you are than how much I enjoy the meal,” Hannibal admitted, between bites.

“I can be a distraction to you later when you get home,” Will said with a little demand and tease, smiling slightly.

Hannibal raised his wine glass, and for a moment, forgot to drink. He returned the smile, slowly, and cleared his throat as he tried to hide how flustered he was. It was nearly unfair. “You have always had a talent for seizing my attention, Will. No matter where we are.”

“From day one,” Will commented, looking back, he wondered how he was so oblivious.

“Long before you found me _interesting “_ Hannibal hummed, and finished his plate of food, completely.

“I was a little less aware then.” Will took the empty plate and containers and put them back into the bag.

“I was, in contrast, very aware of you,” Hannibal said, adoringly, “from the first moment we met.”

“I know that now. You made quite a show of it.” Will smiled at Hannibal, and packed the now empty wine glass as well.

“And yet, you were utterly gobsmacked by Bedelia’s revelation,” Hannibal murmured and felt his heart sink at the signs that Will was going to head home soon.

“I was. Looking back, I see the signs,” Will said, seeing and feeling Hannibal’s sadness, he stood and placed himself on Hannibal’s lap, arm around his shoulders, testing the waters. “How much longer do you have?”

“Have?” Hannibal asked, his usually intricate mind utterly blank as Will settled himself in his lap. Hannibal’s hands hovered for only a second, and then rested against Will’s waist, warm through Will’s shirt.

“Yeah. Until you’ll be home?” Will leaned in and nuzzled Hannibal, doing exactly as they had that morning, having longed for it all day.

Hannibal’s eyes fluttered shut, and he allowed himself to close his arms around Will, nuzzling him back, slowly. It was difficult to focus on anything at all that wasn’t the feeling of Will’s weight on him, the warmth of his breath, and skin. “Soon,” Hannibal managed and opened his eyes to look at Will, close up, to reassure himself he wasn’t dreaming this.

“Good.” Will tucked a strand of Hannibal’s hair behind his ear, fondly, and pressed a kiss to his high cheekbone. “I’m going to go then, get the dishes done, and find some music to put on.”

Hannibal swallowed over a suddenly dry throat. The spot that Will had _kissed_ on his cheek seemed to burn, pleasantly, and sent a deep flush over his cheeks, down his throat. He turned his head, and their lips lined up, perfectly, a moment of magnetic tension between them, but Hannibal merely nodded. One of his hands clutched the arm of his expensive desk chair to remind him that he had _promised_ that Will could be in control of the pace at which they progressed. “I will not be long,” he whispered, unable to think of anything but leaving work so quickly that he could somehow even beat Will home.

Will grinned, clearly more than happy to see the downfall of Hannibal’s resolve. He slid off his lap and gathered his things. “I’ll see you in a bit then.”

Hannibal was breathing more heavily than he had been when they’d just been sitting closely, and was thankful for the long white coat he wore, at the moment. He stood, and helped Will gather his things, speechless for once. “I won’t be long at all,” Hannibal promised, as he handed Will his bag, utterly entranced.

“Thanks.” Will lingered close, smiling at Hannibal up close and then hugged him around his shoulders. “Don’t be too long, okay?”

Hannibal laughed, softly, at the suggestion that he might linger at the hospital when Will was waiting for him at home after a sincerely romantic dinner with the promise of more closeness. “Should the entire hospital burn to the ground in the next five minutes, it will be because it would deliver me home more expediently,” Hannibal whispered, lips against Will’s ear.

Will turned his face in against Hannibal’s lips, skin crawling under his clothes with gooseflesh. “Good. I’ll be waiting. Wine or something?”

“Wine would be lovely, something light,” Hannibal whispered, as their noses brushed, his hands brushed against Will’s slender waist, and he wanted, badly, not to wait until they were home.

“White?” Will whispered, his breath on Hannibal’s lips.

“Please,” Hannibal whispered back, physically trembling at the tips of his fingers with the restraint he used not to lean in half an inch more to kiss Will. It was excruciating and exhilarating all at once, the best sort of pain imaginable.

Will reached and squeezed Hannibal’s hand three times and then showed himself out. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

Hannibal’s hands shook when Will stepped out of his grasp, but he kept his promise, and his composure as Will looked back at him. “Soon,” he promised, again, with an alluring smile.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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The house was dark except for the living room light. A bottle of white was chilled by the sofa, two glasses set out on an end table, and the coffee table moved. Light jazz was playing on in the record player.

When Hannibal walked into the house, the doctor was wearing a suit jacket over his shirt, vest, and tie instead of his white lab coat. He hung up the overcoat that was draped over his arm, and walked toward the soft light in their living room, a soft smile on his lips at the music.

“There you are,” Will said, walking down the stairs, freshly showered and in a simple pair of grey trousers and a white shirt, no shoes or socks, the house perfectly warm and heated. Hannibal actually stopped moving for a moment when he saw Will, reminded in a visceral way of the way Will looked when he wanted to ‘resume his therapy’. “I always keep my promises, Will,” Hannibal said as he moved closer, drawn by the way the low light seemed to make Will’s eyes into black opals that shimmered green and blue.

Will sighed, reaching the landing and then padded over to Hannibal, meeting him in the middle, gazing at him. “I know.”

“Have you been waiting upstairs for me to walk in, Will?” Hannibal asked, with a little smirk, a playful light in his eyes when Will came closer.

“I was freshening up,” Will whispered as he approached, placing his hands on Hannibal’s shoulders. “I didn’t want to smell like fish or grease.”

“You don’t,” Hannibal murmured, and slid his hands around Will’s waist, again, until his palms found the sloping planes of Will’s lower back, and he traced Will’s spine with the fingertips of his right hand. “You’ve opened the bottle of aftershave I gave you, for Christmas.”

“I did. It’s much nicer than what I used to wear.” Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders, stepping in closer, chest-to-chest.

“Sea-salt, the scent of a fireside, and just a touch of leather,” Hannibal whispered, as he took a deep breath of Will’s cologne. “I had it crafted, for you. I _had_ been tempted to ask for an upper note of wet dog, but you hadn’t mentioned dogs in some time…”

With that Will smiled sadly, giving a slight shrug and cant of his head. “I didn’t want something else to make our home a _real_ home. Traveling with dogs is difficult.”

“That is what I had gathered,” Hannibal agreed, and swayed, just a little at first, with Will in his arms. “A dog is far more meaningful an investment in our lives together than a tree in the backyard.”

“It would be.” Will rested their cheeks together, swaying with the motion Hannibal lead with, smiling a little to himself. He liked this. No avoiding, no undermining. Hannibal’s eyes unfocused for a moment with a realization, and then focused again, sharply amused as he turned his head so that his lips brushed Will’s ear again. “I don’t imagine the last three years have been an intricately designed plan that culminates in having _me_ suggest we adopt at least two dogs, has it, Will?” Hannibal asked, with a purr in his tone and a smirk on his full lips.

Humming, Will leaned into Hannibal’s lips a little more as his skin crawled delightfully. “Mm, I don’t know what you’re talking about, Doctor Lecter.” Hannibal closed his eyes, smiling, and cupped the back of Will’s head with one hand, then pulled back just enough to give him an adoring, exasperated, admiring look. “Cunning boy. I very nearly came home with one, tonight.” Hannibal laughed aloud, and turned Will a little in his arms, gracefully, so that they danced closer to the large window overlooking the sea.

“ _William.”_

“Did you?” Will rested their heads together once more, gazing at Hannibal up close, never shying away from the eye contact as their souls connected. “I can only imagine the sort of dog you’d adopt.”

Hannibal shifted his jaw and fixed Will with a black, glittering stare, breathing a little harder, but unable to stop smiling fully at Will. The awful truth was, he was more in love than _ever_ with his devious husband. He tried to speak, and then snapped his jaw closed, his face flushing with complementary and opposite emotions at the same time. He pulled Will closer by the small of his back with one hand, no longer holding him like he was a delicate thing that might be scared off. “I’ve already put down the deposit,” Hannibal muttered with as much dignity as he could manage.

“Did you really?” Will asked, pausing in their stead to gaze at Hannibal with wide, deep blue eyes, utterly captivated.

Hannibal glared at his husband and bit the inside of his cheek so that he didn’t laugh at _himself._ He swallowed, and looked back at Will, letting himself smile as he shook his head at Will in disbelief, admiring him as he moved a hand to cup one side of Will’s face. “You are a terrible, _terrible_ man, Will Graham,” Hannibal purred, laughing to himself. “You have just reminded me why I added wolf’s musk to your cologne, hidden beneath a note of lamb’s fleece.”

Licking his lips and then biting his lower one, Will grinned and rested their faces together, lips close enough to brush, able to feel Hannibal breath on his own. “You bring out the best worst in me, Hannibal Lecter.”

Will had manipulated him, successfully, not only into purchasing a _dog_ but into allowing Will to control the evolution of their relationship. It was stunning and intensely impressive. “You are a petty, difficult, dangerous creature, Will,” Hannibal whispered against Will’s lips, every cell of his body alive and tuned into the feeling of the almost-kiss. “And I _adore_ you.”

“You’d love me less if I weren’t,” Will whispered and canted his head, slotting their lips together perfectly for a brief, soft kiss.

Hannibal shuddered, softly, and finally kissed Will on the lips. It felt just as he had always known it would feel: like the pieces of a shattered teacup gathering itself back together, mended with gold. Nothing rushed or heated, just a soft and sweet kiss, a stark contrast to their lives and bloodshed that had come before their time here. Will wrapped his arms tighter around Hannibal, heartbeat-to-heartbeat.

Hannibal curled his fingers in Will’s curls, softly, and knew that they both felt the fluttering, light sensation when their lips met. At least, he was as sure of it as he could be with anything regarding Will, who always kept him guessing. Hannibal pulled back first, just a fraction of an inch, and swallowed hard, his eyes wet. “It is your turn to orient me to reality, Will,” he whispered, their noses brushing, “is this real?”

Will sighed, nodded just a little, their eyes meeting. “Yes. Far more real than we might expect it to be.”

Hannibal kissed Will again, slowly, with more heat this time, but the burn of it was unhurried. Their lips locked together more intimately, and Hannibal let his teeth scrape Will’s lower lip, ever so slightly as he stroked his hand down to the back of Will’s neck from his hair.

A hum escaped Will’s chest, locking their lips together deeper, tongue slipping against Hannibal’s, exploring slowly. There was nothing he had wanted more all day than the be close like this, but watching Hannibal squirm for it was well worth the wait.

Hannibal stroked Will’s tongue with his own, teasingly, and closed one fist in the back of Will’s white shirt. Of course, it was _white,_ the color of spring lambs and wide-eyed innocence. Hannibal scraped Will’s tongue and lips with his teeth again, both arms holding him more solidly as he pressed their bodies together, from hip to chest. Will had never been kissed before by anyone who knew what kind of man he _really_ was.

“Hannibal-” he whispered, biting at Hannibal’s lower lip and then kissing him again with fervor, panting as their hearts raced, and their blood boiling in their veins for one another. Will had kissed a handful in his time, but nothing ever felt quite like this.

Hannibal seized a handful of Will’s shirt, at the front, just under his open collar, and tugged sharply with a smirk against Will’s lips, just hard enough to pop the next three white buttons off of the front of Will’s shirt and send them clattering to the floor.

“Did you-” Will didn’t finish that, pushed Hannibal up against the wall, undoing his vest and pushing it down his shoulders, effectively trapping his arms for the moment as he kissed him slowly, every bit of pent-up energy and want poured into it.

Hannibal moaned into Will’s mouth, and let himself be bound by his vest for a moment before he managed to shrug it off, and ripped the rest of Will’s buttons off of his shirt as he opened it with shaky hands, then palmed Will’s chest, his back still against the wall. “Yes-”

Will undid Hannibal’s tie and tore it off, throwing it aside, and then started to undo his shirt buttons one by one, skin crawling with gooseflesh at Hannibal’s touch. “I’ll be honest, I’ve wanted to know what it was like to touch you for a long time.”

Hannibal’s chest was heaving, tanned, and covered with thick hair as Will revealed it. He pulled Will’s shirt off completely, both of them desperate for one another after years of building tension. “For how long?” Hannibal asked, in a husky voice, and looked into Will’s eyes briefly before kissing his ear, then letting his hungry, hot mouth work down the side of Will’s throat.

“Years.” Will tossed their shirts aside, palming down Hannibal’s furry chest with a sigh, down to his hips, thumbs dipping at the joint of his hip. He’d been working himself to this point, to get here, to have a reason to be here without fear.

Hannibal gasped at the feeling of Will’s hands on his hips, and kissed Will harder, almost picking Will up with both arms as he embraced him, passionately, bent over Will a little. One hand slipped down to the smooth curve of Will’s ass, shaking.

Will groaned, arching his hips against Hannibal with the touch of his backside. He pulled them back toward the sofa, tugging Hannibal over him, for now. “How does that make you _feel_?” “Like rending your harmless, flannel Person Suit off of you with my _teeth_ ,” Hannibal whispered and rolled his hips against Will’s with a groan at the friction between them. His head bowed, soft, straight hair brushing Will’s forehead as he undid Will’s belt, slowly.

Will raised his hips, biting his lip as he watched Hannibal, every ounce of apprehension melting away with the heat of his lust. “I hope your teeth are good for more than just ripping apart my facade.”

Hannibal’s hand made quick work of Will’s leather belt, and he let it fall open, breathing against Will’s mouth as he spoke, then kissed him again, slowly. He kissed Will’s jaw, then the front of Will’s throat, to the throbbing pulse where his artery lived closest to the surface of his flushed skin. There, he bit Will, softly at first, trapping sensitive nerves under his infamous teeth, showing Will a hint of just what they could be used for as he hands stripped Will’s trousers open, and then hitched them down, smoothly.

Breath hitching, Will lifted his hips and let Hannibal remove his trousers, bare underneath. He liked Hannibal’s unique teeth, always had, and now that’d he’d felt them on his skin, he was sure he’d never want to feel anything else. “Don’t stop-”

Another bite and another assured Will that Hannibal had no intention of stopping. He left purple streaks on Will’s skin and soft imprints of his savage smile that he usually hid behind a polite curl of perfect lips. He bit and sucked, then stroked the hot flat of his strong tongue over the marks as he worked his way down to Will’s shoulder, then his collarbone, and palmed Will’s cock with one hand, then caressed the length of him, almost tenderly.

Gasping, Will held Hannibal’s head there. He’d wanted forever to feel something with Hannibal, waited and waited, told himself it would be worth it, and boy was it worth it. His skin spread hot and cold all at once, raise flesh under Hannibal’s tongue, reacting perfectly to his ministrations.

Hannibal’s caressing fingers curled around the girth of Will’s cock and squeezed before he began to stroke very lightly and slowly. He let Will hold his head against Will’s chest for a moment, and then scraped his sharp canines against the skin there, on the way to one of Will’s raised, pink nipples. Hannibal’s teeth teased the hard, rosy flesh, ripe with nerves that spread like roads all over Will’s body. His tongue wetted Will’s nipple, luxuriously hot and soft before his teeth clamped over the sensitive skin, hard enough to create red imprints under their ivory edges.

“Hannibal…” Will clenched his fingers into the back of Hannibal’s neck, breathing harder, legs spread as his hips rutted into Hannibal’s palm, desperate for more of his touch. Will had longed for this, for all of it, in his dreams and fantasies.

Hannibal tightened his hand around Will’s cock when Will rocked himself against it. His palm twisted over Will, expertly, and Hannibal bit at Will’s nipple harder, able to taste just a trace of blood.

“I’d like to make you come, Will,” Hannibal moaned, breathlessly against Will’s smooth chest, and began to bite and lick his way down, over Will’s stomach, kissing the long scar that traversed Will’s abdomen before he nuzzled Will’s hip and bit at his ivory flesh where it stretched over the crest of his hip.

“I wouldn’t stop you…” Will’s fingers found purchase in Hannibal’s hair, grasping there, his arching just a little into his touch and the nuzzle.

Hannibal looked up at Will, at the dark path of bites and soft bruises his mouth had left in its wake that marked where he had worked his way down Will’s body for the first time. They’d be there for days, reminding them both that this was real. Hannibal pressed a breathless kiss to Will’s hip, then nuzzled his thigh while one hand worked over Will’s cock, and licked his way up to Will’s balls. Hannibal used the tip of his tongue to tease the nerves under Will’s thin skin, there, then breathed and kissed his way to the tip of Will’s cock where he scraped the edge of his teeth over the head, just once, and swallowed Will down with a groan. Holding his breath until Hannibal took him down, Will breathed out heavily, hips pushed up into Hannibal’s mouth. His fingers clenched harder into his hair, unable to think straight from the heat of Hannibal’s mouth wrapped around his cock. “Hannibal-”

Hannibal’s defining feature had always been his mouth. His quick and eloquent tongue stroked Will, slowly, impeccably cultured taste buds grinding over the thin, rosy skin of Will’s cock as his sharp cheekbones hollowed as he sucked. Dangerous teeth skimmed Will’s nerves, here and there, just enough to remind Will that they were there, that he was holding them back. Slowly, Hannibal built up a slow, languid rhythm. His head bobbed up and down as he groaned, and slid both hands under Will’s ass to grip at the taut muscle there.

Burning hot heat built in Will’s core, pooling down in his lower back, where it started to seep even lower. He gasped, each and every bob of Hannibal’s head better than the last, hips arching and inching up into his mouth, unable to stay still.

The taste of Will’s precome sent off shocks of pleasure racing down Hannibal’s spine, and he swiped his tongue over the tip of Will’s cock, over and over, to get more, before he pulled his mouth off, and stood, pulling Will to his feet for a kiss. “Upstairs…” he gasped, walking Will to the stairs.

Flushed from head to toe, Will started backwards up the stairs, tugging Hannibal by his trousers he started to undo, kissing him like he were the breath and life he needed to survive. “So demanding…”

“Is that a complaint, Will?” Hannibal asked, roughly, as he walked Will upstairs, hands on Will’s naked hips. He stepped out of his trousers, and steered Will against the wall, impulsively, pinning him there in the staircase as they kissed, feverishly.

“Never,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s mouth, groaning. His hand wandered Hannibal’s body, tracing the scar on his back as they kissed heatedly.

Hannibal smiled his approval and bit Will’s lower lip, once, before he guided him up the rest of the stairs, both of them going blind, too busy kissing to bother using their eyes. They shuffled together, into Hannibal’s bedroom, and Hannibal gave Will a playful push to his smooth chest to send him down to the immaculately made bed, then crawled over him kissing his way up Will’s chest, again. “I’ve dreamed of having you, here, countless times.”

“Have you? Is the moment living up to your dreams yet?” Will strummed his fingers through Hannibal’s hair and pulled him to his mouth once more, kissing him as though he was the very thing he needed to breathe.

“Surpassing it,” Hannibal whispered, between kisses, and moaned when Will kissed him and held his head there. He reached down to coax his own silk underwear off, over his lean hips, and down long legs, then onto the floor.

“Good.” Will palmed down Hannibal’s back to his hips, and over his ass, reaching every bit of skin he could now. He grasped Hannibal’s cock, slowly stroking him, taking his time to feel his weight and girth in his palm.

Hannibal let his head drop against Will’s, and his toes curled at the first touch of Will’s calloused mechanic’s hand on him. “Will-” he rasped, their foreheads together. For a moment, all Hannibal could manage was to breathe.

Gazing right into Hannibal’s eyes, Will stroked him a little faster, thumb rubbing against the tip, smearing around precome. He thought it’d be weird to touch another man, but Hannibal only spurred him on, wanting to see all those fine features and regal poise melt away at his touch.

Hannibal gasped, his lower lip trembling when Will’s thumb worked over him like that. “ _Will-”_ he moaned, and moved a shaking hand to Will’s cock, to begin stroking him again, the stretched tight skin still wet from Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal’s other arm hooked under Will’s shoulder, palm over the back of his neck as he ground his hips against Will’s touch, unable to help the undulation into Will’s callouses.

Will bit Hannibal’s trembling lip, sucking it into his mouth, between his teeth, as he reached a little lower and squeezed his balls once, palming back up his length slowly, teasing the tip once again, taking his time to really feel Hannibal out, to know him physically the way he knew him mentally.

Hannibal moved one of his legs, one thigh against Will’s hip, his knee in the mattress. He took Will’s hand, and held it, showing Will how to hold their cocks together before he began to rut against him, slowly, as he stared down into Will’s eyes, and wound long fingers into the curls at the nape of Will’s neck. “There..”

“Better,” Will whispered, stroking them both together, smearing their precome together that lube the path of his calloused hands. He kissed Hannibal again, slowly this time, savor their intimacy.

Silky, hot, sticky skin against the same was even better than stroking one another. Hannibal tilted his head to lock their lips and kissed back, slowly, lost in the feeling of it as their bodies rocked together, slowly and unhurried at the moment. It was better than even Hannibal’s mind was able to imagine it would be.

Will’s free hand rested against Hannibal’s jaw, fingers spread across his neck as they kissed, languid and deep all at once, never hurried. They’d gone from nothing to everything all at once, and that was okay with Will. He was touch starved just as much as Hannibal, and finally having it all worked right into a frenzy. He continued to stroke them, squeezing his fist around their lengths.

The tension and feelings between Hannibal and Will had reached critical mass, so to speak. It had taken years, but their hearts were finally in the same place, together.

Hannibal reached to the side, into a drawer of his nightstand, and pulled out a small, expensive glass bottle, and used it to slick his hand, then smoothed it between their cocks with a groan. His slick hand moved to Will’s balls, tugging and rolling them for a moment. With the roll of his hips, they slid together more smoothly, every movement and sensation amplified.

Will’s fingers slipped against their length easier, sliding faster this time as his hitched his hips up, rolling them with Hannibal. His mouth dropped open, heat pooling his thighs. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal wrapped his own slick hand around Will’s, squeezing more tightly, slicking them at their bases as they moved against each other, seamlessly. “Please, Will,” Hannibal whispered, against Will’s ear, his voice deeper and rougher than usual with lust.

“Let yourself go.”

His name on Hannibal’s tongue like that spurred the heat to drop into his loins, toes curling as their hands moved faster, gliding over sensitive nerves and skin until Will was gasping with pleasure, his cock spurting against their hands and his stomach. “Oh, fu-”

Hannibal had been struggling not to come since he’d tasted Will on the couch. The sight and feeling of Will beneath him, coming against him was all that he could bear. “Will-” Hannibal managed to whisper, brokenly, and bit the side of Will’s neck as he came just after. Every muscle in Hannibal’s body clenched tight, shaking, and Hannibal’s arm squeezed Will’s shoulders, hard as they writhed together.

Turning his head, Will captured Hannibal lips with his own, kissing him slowly as they both came down, messy and sweaty, but Will hardly cared, too lost in pleasure to mind. “Hannibal…” Everywhere their bodies touched, they were slick with sweat and flushed pink. Hannibal kissed Will, brokenly, gasping for breath as his heart slowed. He rolled to the side, but pulled Will into his arms, holding him close as he wound a long leg around Will to do the same. Hannibal’s hands kept skimming Will’s skin, fingers brushing adoringly over all of his scars. “My Will,” he whispered, barely audible.

Will sighed with contentment, and wrapped himself around Hannibal, their limbs tangled together. He kissed Hannibal’s mouth softly, gazing at him up close. “Just yours.”

Hannibal’s neatly made bed was in a state of disarray. Pillows had fallen to the floor, the blankets were rumpled, and the drawer had even fallen out of Hannibal’s nightstand without either of them noticing, or caring. Hannibal smiled at Will and brushed his curls from Will’s blue eyes as he marveled at him. “Your body is as remarkable as your mind,” he murmured.

“No complaints then?” Will light chuckled, only aware of the two of them and nothing else. The world could burn down around them and Will wouldn’t care.

Hannibal laughed at the question, and kissed Will again, slowly, addicted to the feeling of it. “I could not begin to imagine a single complaint, even in jest. I was right to suggest we rename you David.”

Will rolled his eyes once, smirking against Hannibal’s lips. Instead of snarky quip he could say, Will simply replied “Thank you” and took the compliment. “Likewise, I can’t complain either.” He trailed his right over Hannibal’s chest, through the thicket of greying chest hair.

Hannibal beamed, proudly, and watched Will admire him. “You’re certain?” Hannibal asked, with the air of a vain, but gloriously built jungle cat allowing himself to be admired and adored.

“Very certain,” Will whispered, rolling half over Hannibal and kissed him down on the bed. Hannibal hummed, softly, and pulled Will over him like a warm, heavy blanket as they kissed again, lost in each other like a couple of teenagers who were discovering sex for the first time. “I’ll have to wear less around the house,” Hannibal whispered between locks of their lips, “in that case.”

“We’ll get nothing done now, you know,” Will pointed out between kisses.

“We’ve been sufficiently productive for the last three years, I think we can manage if I lounge around the house in nearly nothing for a while,” Hannibal whispered, in a throaty voice.

Will kissed Hannibal’s throat, scraping his teeth over his pulse. “You might be onto something there.”

Hannibal gasped and arched his head back, against the pillow, stretching his throat for Will’s mouth. “Of course I am, Will.”

Will bit down this time and then licked the spot, kissing up Hannibal’s jaw to his mouth. “Let’s go rinse off.”

Hannibal turned his head to claim Will’s mouth again, and nodded into the kiss, but wrapped his long arms around Will’s back, holding him right where he wanted him, keeping their chests together. “Yes,” he agreed, with a heavy sigh.

Will groaned once more into Hannibal's mouth. “Afraid to let me go?”

“Reluctant to let you go,” Hannibal admitted with another kiss before he nipped his teeth over Will’s lower lip, again.

“Then don't,” Will whispered and rolled off Hannibal, grabbing his hand to pull his feet.

Hannibal stood, gracefully, and kissed Will again with a hum. He sucked Will’s lower lip, slowly, and hummed as he led Will to the large bathroom off of his bedroom. “A brilliant idea,” he whispered.

Will had never used Hannibal’s bathroom, nor been in it. That might just change altogether.

He held Hannibal’s face in his hands, kissing him over and over as they shuffled awkwardly to the tub. “I’m known to have a few.”

Hannibal hummed and leaned down to start the tub while still kissing Will, unable and unwilling to stop. “At times,” he agreed, airly.

Will smirked, running his hand up Hannibal’s chest slowly as the water warmed and filled the tub. “Better be nice…”

“Or?” Hannibal whispered as he nuzzled Will, and both hands returned to skim over Will’s smooth skin between long, ropey scars.

“Or I don’t have to let you touch me,” Will teased, honestly more than happy to have Hannibal’s hands on him.

“You wouldn’t,” Hannibal whispered, as he breathed against Will’s lips, and brushed them together, softly. “We’ve just begun to know each other’s bodies, Will.”

“I wouldn’t be able to make you stop anyway,” Will whispered back and kissed Hannibal fully. Now that they started, all he wanted to do was seek out more of Hannibal’s skin and drag his calloused hands over every inch.

“I’d only have to remind you of what sort of puppy I paid an absolutely ludicrous sum to reserve for you this evening,” Hannibal whispered with a devilish smirk.

Rolling his eyes, Will stepped into the tub and pulled Hannibal with him. “Don’t bring the dog into this.”

Hannibal stepped into the still filling tub, unable to add anything to the water before Will pulled him in. Will’s bare, hot skin waiting for him was too much to resist, and Hannibal climbed in, to sit against the back of the claw foot tub. “But you put such effort into securing him,” Hannibal teased, and stretched an arm out, waiting for Will to sit with him.”

Will sunk down and laid back against Hannibal, resting his head against his shoulder, fitting perfectly together. “So I did.” Will knew he’d won out finally, securing not just a dog, but Hannibal, too. Hannibal sighed when Will sat against him and gazed down at his lover, adoringly. He traced a line over Will’s bitten chest with his fingers, leaving a trail of shimmering water in their wake. “You also put an alarming amount of effort into securing me,” he noted, with a little smirk.

“I’ve had you before I even knew I needed you,” Will chuckled, canting his head back to look up at Hannibal, smiling, eyes bright with honest affection. Hannibal’s long, but pale eyelashes caught the light when he looked down at Will with a smirk and began to wash his stunning torso, lazily, with scented, soft soap. “Permit me my fantasies, Will,” Hannibal sighed, with a long-suffering tone.

“Tell me your fantasies first,” Will whispered, kissing Hannibal’s jaw, his hands on Hannibal’s thighs, rubbing there up and down.

Hannibal chuckled, and then sighed, stretching into Will’s touch as Will kissed him. “You’ve fulfilled many of them, today.”

“Have I Nothing further?” Will scratched his nails down Hannibal’s thighs, content to be like this, as though they’d been doing it for years.

“I have wanted to take you over the dining room table since just after we met,” Hannibal murmured, and smiled against Will’s ear, devilishly, as his deft hands sunk underwater to wash Will’s thighs, slowly, massaging them.

“Is that so?” Will closed his eyes, relaxing under Hannibal’s hands. “I would not be opposed to trying it someday…”

“And your fantasies, Will?” Hannibal asked, as his hands followed the toned muscles of Will’s thighs up to his groin to take his time washing him there, with a teasingly light touch.

“Your desk, the one in the study,” Will whispered, hips arching a bit into Hannibal’s feather light touches.

“You would look fetching splayed over the top, pale skin against the polished acacia wood,” Hannibal agreed, and teased Will’s cock with one hand, barely touching him as he kissed the side of Will’s neck.

Will hummed softly, his cock slowly getting hard again at the touches. “We can add it to our list of things to try.”

“My office, of course, back in Baltimore. There was a moment, long ago, your back was pressed against the ladder,” Hannibal remembered.

“Do we need to buy a ladder?” Will grinned up at Hannibal, his pupils blown wide once more with lust.

Hannibal tightened his hand, squeezing Will again, and kissed his cheek, then his jaw. “I would find it a worthwhile investment.”

“It would be,” Will rolled his hips into Hannibal’s hand, gasping softly as he reached his hand to guide Hannibal’s mouth to his own. Hannibal turned his head, and kissed Will’s lips, able to feel his own cock grow tumescent against the warm muscle of Will’s ass. He groaned, quietly, and splayed his free hand over Will’s abdominal scar, keeping him close enough that every arch of Will’s hips stimulated Hannibal.

“Oh…” Will sighed, his hips arching and rolling back against Hannibal’s hips, feeling the hard ridge of his growing cock against the swell of his ass.

“If I’d have kissed you, then, with your back up against the ladder to my library,” Hannibal whispered, and scraped his nails over the jagged edge of Will’s scar. “What would you have done?”

Will’s stomach tensed at the touch, never more aware of the claim Hannibal had on him, even then. “I… don’t know, honestly. I wasn’t well then.”

Hannibal kissed WIll’s throat this time, and his palm flattened over the scar, almost soothingly as he stroked Will, and rubbed the pad of his manicured thumb over the tip of Will’s seeping cock. “Shot me?”

Will chuffed, smiling a bit. “I might have. Who knows, maybe I would’ve taken you up on it. Maybe all this could have been avoided.”

Hannibal rewarded Will with another twist of his wrist, and kissed his lips, brushing their tongues together as he shut the water off with his foot, desperate not to stop touching or kissing Will now that he had him at long last. “We would have found calamity, no matter how we kissed.”

“That’s true,” Will groaned, finding it harder and harder to concentrate on their conversation when other things were growing instead.

Hannibal arched upward and sighed when he felt his cock slide against the cleft of Will’s ass, slick in the tub of hot water. His mouth kissed and bit Will’s shoulder, as he stroked Will more quickly, tightly.

“You’re right,” Hannibal gasped. “We’ll never get anything done.”

“We’re doomed.” Will turned his head to kiss Hannibal’s neck, rolling his hips to slide against Hannibal’s cock while rocking his own in his hand, desperate for more friction.

“Utterly,” Hannibal agreed, his voice going rough as he stretched his neck for Will’s lips, and ignored the water as it sloshed over the side of the tub while they ground together.

All other thought left Will’s mind as heat pooled in his lower back once more, threatening to spread and combust if Hannibal kept it up. “God, that’s nice…”

“It is-” Hannibal gasped, and began to shudder, unable to stop himself. “Will-” he moaned, his voice shaking, “ _Will-”._

Will moved his hips back and forth, creating perfect friction for them both, the sensitivity against his ass helped spur on the heat that boiled in his veins. “Hannibal-” he managed, grasping his thighs tightly.

Hannibal’s vision went white as he came against Will in the tub, he groaned words in another language and rode it out. One hand kept thrumming around Will’s cock, hard and fast, and the other clutched at Will’s bitten chest, holding Will against him as Hannibal panted into the back of Will’s neck, as the younger man came, thrusting into Hannibal’s hand. Will’s body convulsed against him, writhing and needy, water sloshing everywhere.

“ _Hannibal_ -!”

Hannibal opened his eyes, slowly, his chest heaving, and his body tingling all over. He rested his face against the back of Will’s neck and held him from behind, hand still around Will’s spent cock. He kissed the side of Will’s neck, softly and sweetly. His lips had spent more time on Will’s skin in the last few hours than away from it.

Content, Will rested back against Hannibal once more, not minding their soiled water. He reached his left hand up and behind Hannibal’s neck, keeping close. “We are not leaving the house this weekend.”

“You’d rather stay here, likely in bed with me all weekend, than take the boat out on the ocean?” Hannibal asked, with a note of surprise against Will’s earlobe, and used his foot to start the water running again, to replace what was lost.

“It hardly matters where we are so long as we are together. I can’t very well laze around the boat in my boxers with you,” Will said with a smile, head lolled back on his neck, against Hannibal’s shoulder once more.

Hannibal kissed Will’s shoulder and smiled against it, in a state of loose-limbed, glowing bliss. This bathtub, at the moment, took the place of the Italian cathedral in his mind palace as his place of worship and reflection. “We would require a much larger boat,” Hannibal agreed.

“We would.” Will hummed, their legs tangled together. It was almost like a dream to be like this, to know that the barriers had come down completely and they were once again on the same level.

“A yacht,” Hannibal mused, as the warm water rose up around them again, like an embrace.

“That’s an investment,” Will chuckled, but didn’t discredit the idea. It sounded nice.

“We have resources,” Hannibal said, in an airy tone. “I’ve ensured that.”

“I mean, we’d have to make the time to use it often,” Will suggested, aware they both had worked for so long and so hard to avoid any real deep conversation. Or, at least, Will had. Now they had time and leisure, they could vacation, if they wanted.

“I’m certain we could manage,” Hannibal said, softly, and used the soap to massage Will’s shoulders. “I haven’t taken a vacation in three years. The Health Authority has taken to reminding me of as much, frequently.”

“We should, when the weather is nicer,” Will hummed, rubbing his hands up and down Hannibal’s thighs once more.

Hannibal worked his thumbs and fingers over Will’s shoulder muscles, then paid attention to his often injured right arm, and worked around the masses of injury and hasty repair, carefully. “We could travel to the island. I’ve heard many of my colleagues say they enjoyed it as much as a European holiday, if not more.”

“That could be nice,” Will greed with a little groan, the arm hurt more than he let on, and there was no hiding the wince when Hannibal worked it over.

Hannibal softened his touch and worked at loosening Will’s mangled arm very slowly. “Does it still hurt?” he asked, quietly.

“It’s a deep ache,” Will explained, fingers of that arm gripping Hannibal's thighs, but not as tight as the other could.

“Regular massage would help,” Hannibal said, as he moved to the next muscle. Will’s shoulder would be humming with heat, but feel much less locked and stiff. “I would have offered before if I wasn’t so certain you would have refused.”

“I might have thought you’d want to just to touch me,” Will said with honesty and knowledge. The shoulder felt better, for now, less stiff. “Thank you.”

“You would only have been half correct,” Hannibal said and kissed Will’s temple. “You’re quite welcome,” he whispered and worked his way to Will’s elbow, then his right hand.

Will’s fingers shook, trembling, but didn’t flinch away from Hannibal’s touches this time. If he had bothered to let Hannibal stitch him upright and fix the issues in the first place, maybe this wouldn’t be such an issue. “Half is better than not correct at all.”

“I wish I had been able to repair your shoulder correctly at the time, Will,” Hannibal said, as he did his best to relax Will’s shaky hand and relax the stressed, now partially malformed muscles.

“You were worse off than I was,” Will murmured, aware that Hannibal remembered next to nothing about how they got out of the ocean and escaped, let alone _who_ helped them.

Hannibal’s hands cradled Will’s right hand in his own, thoughtfully. “I would have asked you long ago if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear that you did not wish to speak of it, however, how did we manage to survive in those early weeks, Will?”

“Mind games and scare tactics,” Will said, plainly, fingers wrapping around Hannibal’s hand. “I managed to get us out of the ocean. You were breathing but barely alive. Got a car, got you in, and I drove us to the first doctor I knew that wouldn’t call us in.”

Hannibal became very still, and once again felt the shock of a wave of surprise crashing down over him. “You ….”

Hannibal had become speechless, stunned that Will would have taken him to one of the people Will despised the most. “To her?”

“She had extensive knowledge of anatomy, as most doctors do. I couldn’t stitch you up myself,” Will explained, quietly. “I didn’t let her touch mine but made her fix you. You’re who I needed alive.”

Hannibal blinked at Will, still surprised, and swallowed hard before he kissed his cheek. “You valued my life enough to take me to the woman whom you despised,” Hannibal whispered, touched.

“She was… very convinced to help,” Will murmured, rubbing his palm over Hannibal shin.

“How was it that you managed that, Will? With a gun?” Hannibal whispered. His heart pounded hard, under his ribs.

“Yes.” Will turned his gaze up at Hannibal, meeting his eyes.

Hannibal stroked his fingers over Will’s jaw. “You could have been rid of me, Will. What happened? Were you at all tempted to allow the sea to swallow the monster you’d just revealed yourself to?”

“When we didn’t die, I thought about it, but I didn’t want to live if you weren’t in my life,” Will sighed, the truth felt heavy on his chest, as though the first time he’d ever said it out loud. “She was reluctant, but convinced.”

Hannibal cupped Will’s upside down face with both hands, then kissed his forehead, the tip of his perfect nose, the scar on his cheek, and finally his lips, with utter devotion, then looked at him with slightly reddened eyes. “Tell me the story, Will. Please.”

Gazing at Hannibal for a bit longer, contemplating, Will finally sighed and nodded, resting his head back against Hannibal’s shoulder once more. “I fished us out of the sea. Found a car, managed to get you in it. I drove to Bedelia’s. I found a gun in Dolarhyde’s car, so I used that. Bedelia threatened to call the police, but she’s far more convinced to do what you want when drugged.”

Will took a deep breath. “Dolarhyde had that in his car too. Who knows what he had planned, but it worked to my advantage. I managed to get you into her house and held her at gunpoint while she stitched you up. I promised I wouldn’t kill her. I lied.”

“How did you kill her, Will?” Hannibal asked, with a soft smile, as though Will had presented him with something incredibly romantic and sentimental, or proposed.

“Drugged her, cut off her leg,” Will said, with a look at Hannibal. “And then we all ate it. I… put her out of her misery soon after.”

Hannibal closed his eyes with a smile, and then kissed Will again, beaming with happiness. “I had dreams of a table set with candles that gave off a golden light, fine china, and a roasted leg, dressed with leaves. Was that it?”

“That was it,” Will whispered, gazing at Hannibal. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember. You were on some big painkillers.”

“If they were from Bedelia’s medicine cabinet, I can imagine that I was,” Hannibal said, laughing to himself, his eyes lit up from within with joy, the color of cinnamon. “How did you kill her, Will?”

“I… stabbed her in the back. Between the shoulders. Justice served.” Will took a deep breath and let it go slowly.

“She had aspirations to become great. I think she would have been pleased with being killed like Caesar,” Hannibal murmured with a smile at Will. His lovely Will. “How did it feel?”

“Glorious.” Will smiled at Hannibal and kissed him. “It felt good.”

“She understood precisely whom she was antagonizing,” Hannibal murmured, and accepted another kiss. “You despised her,” he chuckled. “Was there an event that shifted your perspective of Bedelia’s character?”

Will stared up at the ceiling, resting against Hannibal, chest heaving. “I saw her for therapy while I did the Tooth Fairy cases. To keep level.”

Hannibal laid his hand on Will’s chest and nuzzled Will’s damp, stubble-covered jaw. “And it was during those sessions that you learned to despise her?”

“I learned a lot of things, but my hatred of her grew even more than I had over three years.” Will chuckled, and nuzzled Hannibal back.

“Was any of that due to jealousy, Will?” Hannibal asked his husband as they nuzzled each other, making up for all of the sterile distance that had characterized their cohabitation thus far.

Will quieted, chewing the inside of his cheek. “...yes.”

There was a moment of silence between them where they lay tangled in each other in the tub. “I know the feeling well,” Hannibal admitted, softly.

“Do you?” Will smiled a little. “I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time, but it’s… what it was.”

“When did you decipher your own emotional reaction and label your intense dislike of Bedelia as jealousy, Will?” Hannibal asked, with some interest. He was beginning to understand the foggy, complicated, but beautiful timeline of when and how Will became aware of his own heart.

“When I brought you to her. I was… catty with her before that, but I realized when I made her stitch you up it was my last resort, I didn’t want her to _touch_ you.” Will sighed.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around Will’s chest and held him as he kissed Will’s cheek, then his lips. “Will,” he sighed, and kissed Will again on the lips, then his cheek, then nuzzled his ear. “She was nothing more than a convenient disguise in Florence, and my therapist during a tumultuous time in my life. She also helped me realize the nature of my feelings for you.”

“Nothing happened?” Will asked, more jealous than he let on, clutching at Hannibal’s leg and arm with his hands.

“I was largely disinterested,” Hannibal said and smiled at the way Will clutched at him a little, then kissed the warm, smooth skin behind Will’s ear. “Beyond physical touch for the sake of distraction? No. I found it empty, and unsatisfying, which was one of the many discoveries that made me realize that I was deeply in love for the first time.”

Will rolled his eyes, though Hannibal couldn’t see it. Of course, there was something there, just like Alana. “She didn’t think so.”

“She was incredibly jealous of you, Will,” Hannibal confided. “I may have referred to you, frequently and, as she put it, obsessively.”

“She still got you before I did,” Will whispered, fingers skating over Hannibal’s thighs, digging into his skin a little.

“You had me from the moment we met,” Hannibal whispered and groaned softly at the possessive touch of Will’s nails. “If I could have had this with you from the beginning, I would have been quite content.”

“Did you ever think to try? To ask?” Will queried, quietly, not loud, or upset.

“I thought of it a million times,” Hannibal admitted, “and fantasized about a million ways in which you might accept. You have always been and will always be an exception, Will. I have never feared rejection, before. I was acutely aware that sex for the sake of sex would never be possible, where you were concerned.”

“Really? You really are patient,” Will shook his head. “I’m… trying to live in the now, not the past.”

“The present is a wonderful place, Will,” Hannibal agreed and laid his hand over Will’s heart. “When did you first want me?”

Will placed his hand over Hannibal’s, letting out a slow breath. “Sexually? The night we killed Dolarhyde. I didn’t allow myself to think about before that, because I hadn’t seen it. I couldn’t allow myself to think it.”

Hannibal closed his eyes at the thought and smiled to himself, then laced his fingers over Will’s, keeping his hand there. “There was a bed inside the house, Will,” Hannibal teased, softly, and kissed his neck, again.

“Maybe things would have gone quite differently if we had,” Will teased back. They both knew they couldn’t change any of that now.

“Before or while we killed him?” Hannibal asked, with a little vain curiosity in his voice.

“Both?” Will tipped his head back to grin at Hannibal. “I… felt it after. There was no chance we’d have been able to do anything after that though. I hardly even remember much before I got us here.”

Hannibal smiled back down at Will, decidedly smug. “Did the desire persist after our blood had dried?”

“You’ll be disappointed to learn that it did,” Will said with a look. “I set it aside though.”

“Which, of course, explains your anger upon waking,” Hannibal said with a smile, quite pleased with the thought. “Frustrated desire and self-denial is a painful thing, Will.”

“Self-punishment.” Will kissed Hannibal jaw.

Hannibal stroked one hand down Will’s stomach, still smirking to himself with the knowledge that Will had wanted him, sexually, for the entire time they’d been living together. “I had noticed that your temper seemed to flare if I wore a certain, very fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled to my elbows.”

“You are very distracting,” Will chuckled, touching Hannibal’s face with his free hand, stroking along his jaw.

Hannibal took a deep breath of Will’s hair and kissed the back of his ear. “Whenever you were particularly appealing and I knew you’d leave if I made any overt advance, I would bake,” Hannibal confessed.

“You bake every other day,” Will commented, giving Hannibal a raised brow.

“Yes. I do.” Hannibal looked back at Will, flatly.

Will laughed, nosing Hannibal’s jaw. “Well, now we’ll be eating fewer carbs since we’re out in the open with this.”

“I think we’ll be too busy for me to manage very many desserts,” Hannibal said, happily, and closed his eyes. “If you think back, Will, you may notice a correlation between days you came in smeared with grease and days upon which I busied myself in the kitchen.”

“Grease? That’s what gets you?” Will mused, tangling their feet together as the water in the tub cooled.

“It is difficult to explain precisely why,” Hannibal said, and stroked his left hand over Will’s. “But yes, there is something nearly irresistible about you when you’ve just come in from working on some sort of engine.”

“Manly?” Will teased, watching Hannibal’s reaction, saving the information away for later.

Hannibal looked at Will and took a deep breath. “Something like that, yes,” he whispered. “I think you will recall the rather over-elaborate and large multi-tiered cake I produced the evening that you laid under the sink to repair it.”

“Oh, yes. I do. Really? Over the sink?” Will smirked and took Hannibal’s hand to hold it in his calloused one, knowingly.

Hannibal just sighed and gave Will a look. “So much so that I may have been the reason it broke again, the following weekend,” Hannibal confessed with a laugh.

“Well, now that I know…” Will kissed Hannibal for it, soft and slow. “You can come watch in the garage anytime.”

“I may do precisely that,” Hannibal whispered, against Will’s lips. “Aside from my black shirt, what seemed to frustrate you the most, Will?”

“You were pretty something in those scrubs,” Will whispered back. “Anything you wear when you’re cooking. I like watching your hands.”

Hannibal laughed aloud, surprised. “Scrubs?”

“Seeing you frumpy isn’t something I get a lot.” Will’s cheeks pinkened a little for it.

Hannibal gave Will a look of open confusion and sighed. “My suits do nothing to fuel your hunger, Will?”

“My hunger sparked when I saw you in a sweater, covered in blood,” Will pointed out. “Seeing you without your polished veneer of a person suit… sparks something else. I love you in your suits, too, don’t get me wrong.”

Hannibal considered it, able to remember the simple sweater he’d worn the night they killed Dolarhyde together. “That was not something I’d considered.”

Hannibal in his scrubs without much thought to his appearance had set Will off that morning, even in his hungover mind. It set things in motion. “It’s nice to see you’re human, sometimes.”

“Am I?” Hannibal asked, with a smug smirk at Will, and bent down to pull the plug to release the now cooled water around them.

“I hope so,” Will teased. He stood, dripping wet, shaking off some water, bending over and out of the tub to grab some towels.

Hannibal followed and admired the sight of Will bent over like that. He touched the small of Will’s back with one hand, gently. “Utterly bare is, I think, my favorite way to see you, Will.”

Will pulled a towel and wrapped it around Hannibal as he turned, and then stepped out and put one around his own waist. “I might have to agree.”

Hannibal tugged Will closer by his towel, and kissed his lips, again, then began to walk with him back into the bedroom. “How did we arrive in Canada?” Hannibal asked, curiosity bubbling beneath the surface of lust.

“I had a little help from a friend of yours,” Will murmured, walking backward, trusting Hannibal’s every move. “Chiyoh met us at Bedelia’s.” Hannibal laid on his bed and pulled Will down with him as he peeled the now messy bed sheets back, and covered them both with blankets. “You’ve been busy, Will. How did you contact Chiyoh?”

“I didn’t. She just showed up,” Will answered, crawling in next to Hannibal, warm in his bed, dry but still sticky with wetness.

Hannibal snuggled in closer to Will, happily, and brushed a few damp curls from Will’s forehead, uncovering his scar. “She’s rather protective of me,” Hannibal said, with an air of amusement.

“I’m aware,” Will sighed, giving Hannibal a look.

“I trust you escaped her company without further injury, this time?” Hannibal asked with a smirk as he wrapped one bare leg around Will’s legs.

“She may have thought my injuries were suffering enough.” Will snuggled into Hannibal, finally allowing himself the pleasure of what he wanted. What they both wanted.

“How long was it until I was awake again?” Hannibal whispered as he pulled the blankets up to their shoulders, almost cocooning them both in the soft layers.

“You were in and out. Better within a week, by then Chiyoh had given me the passports and banking information you had set up a while back. From there we stayed in a hotel over the border, and once you were more awake, then we looked at houses.”

“I recall waking to full consciousness in this house,” Hannibal said, and looked at Will. “In my drugged stupor, did I choose this place?”

“We decided on it together.” Will gazed at Hannibal innocently. “We came to an agreement on the size, which you insisted on. I got the boat and garage I wanted, and the view.”

“How did I come to be awarded the master suite?” Hannibal asked, with a little raise of his eyebrow.

“I let you have it. You were insistent,” Will chuckled, and kissed Hannibal on the mouth once. “I used to sleep in my living room for years. I wasn’t going to be picky on the bedroom.”

“Insistent even while drugged?” Hannibal chuckled.

“You were drugged not silenced.” Will wrapped his arm around Hannibal’s middle, fingers grazing over the bullet scar.

“Was it gratifying to watch me in a stupor?”

“A little bit,” Will admitted.

“The tables had turned, and you had become the chef. I wish I could remember our feast, Will. It must have been something,” Hannibal whispered, adoringly.

“It was decidedly exciting. She tried to stab me again, that’s when I killed her,” Will explained, more than happy to recount what Hannibal could not.

“With what did she try to stab you?” Hannibal asked, trying his hardest to remember.

“A fork.” He rubbed his hand up Hannibal’s chest, through his drying chest hair.

“And after Bedelia’s demise, you became my doctor and nurse,” Hannibal noted, trying to imagine it.

“Yes. I took care of you for weeks, even after we settled here. I told neighbors that you were recovering from appendicitis.”

Hannibal cupped Will’s face with both hands, and kissed him, on the lips. “Thank you, Will.”

Will’s indifference over the last three years was stark in comparison to the care he’d given Hannibal at the start. “You’re welcome.”

“Was I, at least, an easy patient?” Hannibal asked, beginning to see not only that Will loved him, but how much he loved him.

“No. You were awful.” Will grinned, teasing, but very serious. “Kept speaking in other languages, refused to sleep unless I was with you.” Hannibal sighed with sympathy and shook his head. “I could not have been that terrible. I’m a physician.”

“You’re a terrible patient,” Will commented, resting his chin on Hannibal’s chest.

“And yet, you refrained from overdosing me with painkiller to stop my heart,” Hannibal whispered, with adoration in his eyes.

“I didn’t hate you. Why would I do that?” Will canted his head, watching Hannibal with love in his eyes, allowing himself to be seen doing it.

“I could not have been that terrible, in that case,” Hannibal argued, playfully, gazing back the same way.

“You weren’t. I took care of you either way.” Will leaned up and kissed Hannibal on the mouth, glad they were open with each other once more.

Hannibal tugged Will into the kiss with one hand in the back of Will’s tousled curls. He hummed and wound their tongues together as their bare chests pressed against each other, hearts beating at the same speed. “My sainted husband,” Hannibal whispered, only half teasing.

“Careful, that sort of talk will go to my head,” Will murmured, half laying over Hannibal now as they kissed, softly, nothing hurried.

“Which head, in particular, Will?” Hannibal teased.

“You are awful,” Will whispered and bit at Hannibal’s bottom lip, tugging on it slowly.

Hannibal groaned and palmed Will, between Will’s thighs. His breath hitched at the feeling of Will’s teeth against his lip. “And yet, you seem partial to me.”

“I’m more than partial to you,” Will groaned, taking a deep breath as he crawled over Hannibal’s hips.

Hannibal swallowed when Will straddled him in bed, and the covers shifted off of Will’s scarred shoulders, revealing his form. “Really?” Hannibal purred and slipped his hands over Will’s hips as he felt himself grow completely hard.

“Really.” Will pressed himself down over Hannibal, every desire he’d held in for years could not contain him now.

Hannibal’s lips dropped, his mouth ajar as Will pressed down against him, and his hands squeezed. “Will-”

Will ran his hands up Hannibal’s chest, over the thatch of hair here, pressing his palms down. His length grew harder as he rolled his hips down over Hannibal’s, creating sweet friction.

Hannibal groaned, and rocked up, against Will. His cock was hard, throbbing against Will’s as he watched Will move. “I could watch you like this for days.”

“Could you?” Will grasped Hannibal's chest and moved his hands over his shoulders, slowly, undulating his hips, working them over with even gyrations.

Hannibal’s right hand found the small bottle on the bed and slicked his fingers before he stroked them over the cleft of Will’s ass. “Yes…”

Will bent over, shaking a bit, ass pert to Hannibal’s hand, spread for him. He trusted Hannibal to guide him through this. “Good.”

Hannibal leaned closer and kissed Will’s lips, slowly, lips parted as he stroked his fingers over Will’s pucker. “Yes?”

“Yes-” Will gazed down into Hannibal’s eyes as his mouth dropped, the sensation new and interesting, making him rolled his hips down for more.

Hannibal watched the flush of Will’s face as he eased the very tip of his slick finger in. “Nerves here lead directly to the prostate, long known to be the source of male orgasm,” Hannibal whispered.

“Oh…” Will knew a bit about but had never actually experimented, and had never thought about it save for Hannibal. Heat crept up his spine slowly.

Hannibal was much more experienced, especially in this regard, and knew precisely how to pleasure Will. “Breathe,” he reminded Will softly and crooked his finger slightly, working Will open with it patiently.

It was worth waiting just to see the look on Will’s face at the sensation of being fingered for the first time.

Mouth dropping further, Will gasped, fingers grasping on his shoulders, gazing down still at Hannibal. “That’s… easy for you to say.”

“And this is only the tip of one of my fingers, Will,” Hannibal purred, twisting his slick finger in just a little more. “You are beautiful when overwhelmed.”

Will bent and bit Hannibal’s lip for that, limbs shaking as he dropped to his forearms by Hannibal’s head. “I feel… like a novice…”

“You are,” Hannibal whispered and kissed Will’s ear, adoringly. “A perfect, alluring, dangerously seductive novice I have waited years for.”

Will writhed and sank in over Hannibal’s finger ever so gently. He nuzzled his ear against Hannibal’s lips. “How many?”

“Nearly a decade,” Hannibal whispered back, and let his fingertip brush Will’s prostate, barely skimming it.

Arching into his finger once more, Will moaned deep from his chest, gooseflesh rippling over his skin. “You definitely deserve some reward for that patience.”

“Feeling you like this is a reward,” Hannibal moaned, and let his other hand squeeze Will’s cock as he added a second finger.

Will’s hands tugged on Hannibal’s hair, rutting down on Hannibal’s fingers slowly. “I..I think we’re both being rewarded.”

“We both deserve it,” Hannibal groaned. Will’s tight body stretched around his slick fingers. He could feel Will’s heartbeat as he began to flex and shift his surgeon’s hand, fingertips exploiting and playing every sensitive nerve inside Will as skillfully as he might play the piano.

Gasping, Will pressed his face into Hannibal’s shoulder, Bite down hard enough to leave a mark. He held Hannibal’s neck with one hand, keeping him just there as he rutted and rolled his hips, perfect friction rolling through his tensed up body.

“Teeth,” Hannibal groaned, appreciatively, unable to manage entire sentences as Will squirmed around his fingers. “Will,” he gasped, and rubbed the tips of his fingers over Will’s prostate, slowly, starting to scissor his fingers slowly.

Panting against Hannibal’s neck, Will pulled back and gazed down at Hannibal as his hips worked, frantic for friction and taking every last bit of Hannibal he could, eager for more. Long curls dropped into Will’s eyes, slightly damp. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal leaned up and kissed Will’s mouth, hard and briefly, both of them breathless. “Let me see you … come …” Hannibal purred, as he kept massaging Will’s prostate, eager to give him the experience he’d never had before.

A quip on the tip of his tongue fell flat as Will’s mind went blank with heat and lust, his mind on only the feeling of pure pleasure that coiled in his belly. He grasped Hannibal’s shoulder with one hand, the other grasping his own cock to further the friction between their hips. Will jutted his hips a few more times before coming, orgasm built deep within and spilling out over this fist, ass pulsing around Hannibal’s fingers.

Hannibal knew the orgasm he could give Will like this would be different, and harder than the had before. He relished in watching Will fall apart on his fingertips, and squeezed his cock as he came from being penetrated for the first time. “Will,” he whispered, struck by the beauty of Will when he lost his precious self-control.

Breath ragged, Will’s body pulsed to the rhythm of his heartbeat thrumming loud in his head. He bent in half, head against Hannibal’s shoulder. “Mmn…” was all he could manage.

Hannibal very slowly removed his fingers, and his hand from around Will, and licked Will’s come from his fingers like it was icing, then wrapped both of his arms around Will’s back, just holding him as he recovered. “Different?”

“Very,” Will breathed, bringing up his head to look at Hannibal, flushed face and completely languid.

“I think you may be at your most stunning when you are on the very cusp of falling apart,” Hannibal whispered, and touched the side of Will’s face. He looked years younger this way, unguarded, relaxed through and through. “How is your shoulder?”

Will hadn’t even thought of his shoulder in heat of the moment, the pounding of his pulse fogging every other ache and pain that was so normal in his body. “It’s… it’s good for right now.”

“Perhaps prostatic stimulation would be an appropriate therapy for your chronic injuries,” Hannibal whispered with a smug smile.

Will huffed and rolled himself to his side, grinning as his gaze hardened on Hannibal. “You’d like that if it were the remedy.”

“ _Only_ I would enjoy that, Will?” Hannibal asked with a larger smile and moved closer with Will as though drawn by a thin string that connected their chests.

“Only you because you’re the only one I’d let,” Will whispered back.

Hannibal kissed the words off of Will’s mouth, and sucked his lower lip, slowly. “I should hope so,” he murmured, and wrapped one long arm around Will’s waist, keeping him close as he tugged the blankets up over them again.


	5. Chapter 5

Will slept the best he had in all the years since they arrived. As the sun shone through the window, he woke slowly, curled around Hannibal, wrapped up against him. He hummed, contentedly, and kissed Hannibal’s bronzed skin, arm around his waist, holding him close as he dozed for a bit longer.

Hannibal, likewise, slept deeply with Will in his arms and opened his eyes at the kiss to his skin. He smiled to himself as Will’s weight resettled against him, and he felt Will go back to sleep. “Will?”

“Mm?” Will hummed, nosing against Hannibal’s neck, warm and languid against him, skin to skin.

Hannibal smiled again and rubbed Will’s back, gently, then kissed the top of his head. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starved,” Will whispered back, facing each other, and slowly opened his eyes again. He was sure after last night he might wake up in his own bed, to find it was a dream and they were still at odds.

Hannibal brushed Will’s cheek with one hand and wiped the sleep from his eyes. Hannibal’s gaze was as warm as melted chocolate when he watched Will wake up, slowly, as Will always woke up, as though climbing out of sleep was a massive ordeal. “I would prepare something, but you’re difficult to leave.”

“I’ll come with you,” Will murmured, but hardly moved an inch, smiling sleepily at Hannibal. “In a second.”

They had slept through the night, and into the late morning. “A second?” Hannibal asked, knowingly.

“Okay, okay… I’m getting up.” Will squeezed Hannibal once and then crawled out of bed over him, feet hitting the plush carpeted floor first as he padded off to the bathroom.

Hannibal smiled and stayed in bed for a moment to bask in the feeling of waking up with Will, of being hugged before Will padded away to the bathroom. He rose, finally, and wrapped himself in a robe, leaving the chest open as he walked downstairs to begin their breakfast.

Will was right behind him, after going back to his own bathroom to find some slippers and his robe. He had nothing to do this weekend, but he planned to at least go buy the trees he promised Hannibal. Should they find time between being unable to keep their hands off each other. Hannibal was at the stove, frying eggs and sausage in a copper pan. He smiled over his shoulder, at Will, and turned to hand him a cup of coffee, made precisely the way Will seemed to like it the most, with a little cream and just a hint of maple syrup stirred in. “Good morning, Will.”

If Will made the coffee it was just sugar, but he liked that Hannibal made it a certain way, and perfectly so. Patience in the morning wasn’t Will’s strong suit. He took the cup with a smile and took a long sip. “Mornin’, again.”

“Your accent is always thickest in the mornings,” Hannibal noted as he watched Will sip his coffee. He never told Will just how he made Will’s coffee distinctively sweet, he preferred that Will required him to achieve it.

Humming with content into the mug, Will smiled bashfully over the rim. “And here I hoped to get rid of it since we moved here.”

“I enjoy it,” Hannibal murmured. “I’d be as devastated if you rid yourself of it entirely as I would if you cut your curls off.”

Will laughed, sighing contently as he took another sip. “You’re lucky I haven’t cut my hair. I’ve been tempted.”

Hannibal blinked, offended by the notion, and then narrowed his eyes as he went back to scrambling eggs and cream together with a few spices. “I would be compelled to shave my chest bare, in mourning.”

“That wouldn’t haven’t bothered me much last week as it does now,” Will whispered, leaning over to kiss Hannibal’s jaw.

“You seem quite fond of it,” Hannibal hummed and closed his eyes when Will kissed his jaw.

Will slipped his free hand into the fold of Hannibal’s robe and raked his fingers through the thicket of hair there. “I’m very fond of it.”

Hannibal plated their perfectly cooked eggs and added the slices of sausage to balance the plates with a soft, smug smile. “So I’ve noticed.”

Pulling away, Will grabbed forks and set them on the plates. He took his own to the table with his coffee. “You don’t seem to mind.”

“As perceptive as ever, Will,” Hannibal teased, and kissed Will’s cheek as he handed his plate to him, and joined Will at the table. “Do you remember this dish?”

“Not quite a scramble, but close to,” Will said, cutting into the eggs.

“The first meal we shared together,” Hannibal said and tilted his head at the plate. “With a few minor substitutions.”

“No people in this one,” Will asked, giving Hannibal a look as he bit into the sausage pointedly.

“No. No people,” Hannibal said with a little sigh. “You did enjoy it, at the time.”

“I’ve enjoyed every one of your meals,” Will insisted, and then grinned a little over at Hannibal. “Except that soup.”

“Every chef has one or two missteps,” Hannibal smiled back, and let his leg rest against Will’s under the table, both of them bare beneath their housecoats.

Will hardly remembered much about the soup Hannibal force-fed him that day, but he did remember it wasn’t tasty at all. “Of course,” he said, with a small smile and shoved more eggs and sausage into his mouth.

“One of several mistakes made that day,” Hannibal admitted, softly.

Humming once in reply, Will nodded. “What would you have done if you weren’t stopped?”

Hannibal thought, silently, for a full minute, and then met Will’s eyes across the table, and swallowed. “I do not know,” Hannibal confessed, quietly, and honestly. “For the first time since I was a child, I acted without a fully formed plan, without consideration of consequences, without rational thought. I had no grand design, Will,” he nearly whispered. “That was me at my most desperate. I was desperate to sever our bond, to stop the pain, like an animal gnawing away at his own limb to escape what he perceives as a painful trap. My discovery of the blade in your hand in the square had reduced me to a primitive state, my hopes of something like our lives as they are now were slaughtered. I was angry.”

Silently, Will listened, mostly chewing what as left in his mouth. They'd both made mistakes that day, and months before. Will had no intentions of actually stabbing Hannibal, but if the moment had presented he might have. If only to give Hannibal a little taste of his own wound.

Will sighed, smiling turning to a frown. “I… wish we had kept our heads straight. I had Jack breathing down my neck to kill you, but I honestly didn't think I could… not even after you left me gutted.”

Hannibal took a deep breath, sighed, and stood from his chair to cross to Will, then bent down to kiss his forehead, over the scar, before he kissed his lips.

Will mimicked the sigh and set his fork down, hands-on Hannibal's waist, head tilted up to meet his lips. “You've always been most important to me, even when I didn't realize it.”

“As have you, to me,” Hannibal whispered as their lips parted, and squeezed Will’s hand before he took his seat again to sip his coffee. “I do wonder what Jack is doing, now.”

“Not looking for us, I hope,” Will said and sipped his coffee once more. “Last I heard we were declared dead.”

“How did you dispose of Bedelia?” Hannibal asked, after swallowing a bite of his breakfast.

“She’s lost somewhere out at sea,” Will said, with a shrug. She was a missing person, but no one had found her body yet.

“In what state did we leave her home?” Hannibal asked, pleasantly, as though they were discussing the weather, not a murder.

“Cleaned. Chiyoh and I made sure everything was in place and she had a bag packed up. It looks like she left without a word.” Will finished his breakfast and then sipped on his coffee.

“Then there is a chance that we are not being hunted,” Hannibal said, pleased. “Did you have plans for the weekend, Will?”

Will had most of it figured out and had left it at that when they got here. It’d been three years without hassle. “No. Not really. Working in the yard a bit.”

“Trees?” Hannibal asked, with a spark of interest in his eyes.

“Yeah. I thought I’d go see about them, get them planted before spring and summer, so they’ll fruit by then,” Will explained with a little smile.

“Today is the first day that the breeder will permit us to bring the dog home,” Hannibal mentioned, off-handedly. “But, we can always do that later.”

Pausing, Will considered that. “Well, we can get the trees and then go. Planting can wait.”

Hannibal smiled, not surprised in the least that Will was eager to meet his first dog in years. “If you’re certain, I believe there’s an upscale nursery not far from the coast.”

“We can go together then,” Will commented, taking his plate to the sink with his mug of finished coffee, eager to get going.

“The breeder is in Richmond, not too distant,” Hannibal agreed and smiled a little at Will’s sudden enthusiasm to leave the house. He rose, amused, and set his dishes in the sink, watching Will, who was suddenly animated with purpose. Will washed their dishes, not wanting to leave them for later, not if they were getting a puppy. His time would have to be well spent. “No, not too far.”

“I find it amusing, Will, that you have not asked what kind of puppy I’ve arranged to join our family,” Hannibal noted, and fixed Will’s unruly hair a little, with his hands.

“A dog is a dog, Hannibal. You saw mine. They weren’t specially picked out, or perfect. They needed home and I gave them one,” Will said as he washed, turning his head to look at Hannibal sincerely.

“What sort of dog do you imagine I would select for you?” Hannibal asked, with interest in his dark eyes.

“I can only imagine,” Will said as he washed and set the newly clean items in the other part of the sink.

“Well, obviously, not a dog that is prone to shedding,” Hannibal said, as he headed upstairs to change his clothing, but lingered at the foot of the polished, dark wood stairs for his husband.

“Most dogs shed,” Will insisted, drying his hands as he followed Hannibal, still getting used to the idea that they could do these things together.

“Poodles do not,” Hannibal said, as he looked over his shoulder, climbing the stairs.

Will had a poodle mix once, she wasn’t a bad dog, but not Will’s sort of dog if he had to pick one. “Poodle?” He made a day as he climbed after Hannibal.

“Standard poodles are large dogs, the smartest breed available,” Hannibal said as he stepped into his room to dress.

Will didn’t want a poodle. “We’re not looking for a show dog,” Will said making his way to his own room and disappearing inside, door shut.

Hannibal smirked as he looked at the closed door, and finished pulling a cream-colored sweater over his chest, then smoothed it out.

“He is not a show dog,” Hannibal called over with an injured air to his tone.

Will never answered, locked away in his room getting ready, trying to figure out where Hannibal even fathom the idea Will wanted such a dog.

Hannibal waited outside Will’s door, dressed more casually than usual with slacks that accentuated his long legs and a rather fitted, slim sweater that was softer to the touch than it looked. Finally, Will opened the door, in his flannel once more and a casual pair of khakis and his boots. He pulled a jacket on, not bothering with his hair for now.

“I was assured by the breeder that the dogs are healthy and in good standing,” he said, as he looked Will over. “I had no idea you disliked poodles, Will.”

“I like all dogs, but poodles, purebred poodles, are for rich uppity people,” Will murmured, pulling on his gloves. “You have to groom them a lot.”

Hannibal raised both eyebrows and straightened to his full height as he did whenever anyone used to imply that he had used psychic driving on Will Graham. “I thought a dog was a dog.”

“If a dog was just a dog, you wouldn’t have opted for a purebred poodle,” Will pointed out. “Intelligence of the dog doesn’t make it a homely, kind animal you want to play fetch with or cuddle with on the couch.”

“A dog is just a dog to _you_ , Will,” Hannibal said as he ran his hand over Will’s waist and headed down the stairs to select a coat, and put on a pair of shoes.

“Has it been your lifelong dream to have a poodle, Hannibal?” Will asked, following after his ‘husband’ with some disdain. He’d been promised a dog and now he was getting a… poodle.

“No,” Hannibal said as he opened the front door, with an injured look. “I thought it was something you would love, Will. Perhaps meet the gift before you reject it.”

Will shifted his jaw and said nothing else as they left. He’d let Hannibal drive.

They drove in silence to the nursery, Hannibal looked at his pouting husband a few times, as though about to say something, but kept driving on. They got out at the lavish greenhouse near the ocean, and luckily, a poodle in the range rover next to them looked at them through a window. Hannibal exited the car and went to see it, then looked back at Will. “I think it’s lovely.”

“I never said they weren’t,” Will insisted, coming overlook at the dog, but then went to get a flatbed for their trees.

Hannibal followed after a moment and held the door for his husband. “I’m sure the puppies are adorable, of course.”

“All puppies are adorable.” Will pushed the flatbed in and paused to see which way he should go, and then started off toward the back of the store.

“Have you considered a name?” Hannibal asked as they reached the trees in a domed part of the massive greenhouse.

“No.” Will passed the pear and apple trees, going for the peach ones, and set a few down on the flatbed.

“I suppose we can decide after meeting him, getting him home, having him groomed,” Hannibal reasoned as he watched Will set the trees down, admiring him.

“Sure.” Will brushed his hands off. “Anything we else while we’re here?”

“I think that will be sufficient,” Hannibal said with a little smile at Will’s dirty hands. “Shall we?” he asked and led Will toward the cash desk, smoothly.

With a nod, Will pushed them to the checkout, where they paid, and he pushed it all to the truck and set the planters inside with a little ache in his shoulders, but he didn’t complain about that. “All set.”

“Off to the breeders?” Hannibal asked. He walked behind Will, and put a warm hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently.

“Yeah,” Will said, turning to look at Hannibal, over his features, and then got into the truck once everything was secure.

“Does your shoulder ache?” Hannibal asked once they were both inside.

“No more than usual.” Will buckled in, pulling his gloves back on.

“You’ll be able to carry a puppy, I hope,” Hannibal chuckled, and backed out of the spot, then headed back onto the road that would carry them to the dog breeder’s where the puppy that Will seemed to object to waited for him.

“I’ll be fine.” Will folded his arms over his chest and watched the wintery, dead looking trees pass them on their way.

The drive to the breeders was uneventful, full of long stretches of highway and freeway, then finally farmland. Hannibal turned left into a long drive and parked outside of an old looking white house, then looked at his watch. “Just on time,” he said, as a dog barked from inside the house, and a big yellow labrador face looked at them from between two curtains.

That made Will smile as he got out and slammed the truck door shut. He waited for Hannibal before walking up to the house. “We’re expected, I hope.”

“We are,” Hannibal agreed, with a glowing light in his eyes. He smirked to himself, mischievously, and knocked at the door. A woman answered, with short brown hair, holding a soft, yellow puppy in her arms that was definitely not a poodle as she kept the same huge yellow lab from the window back from the door with one leg. “Hi! You’re here for your puppy?”

“We are. I hope this is a good time,” Hannibal said, politely, as the huge yellow dog plowed past his owner like a furry tank to sniff at Will, urgently, and wagged. “It’s a fine time, don’t worry. That’s Tank! That’s the Daddy. Tank, come on, leave them! Tank! Don’t jump up! Sorry, he’s a bit … you know how labs are.” Tank rose up on his hind legs to sniff at Will’s face, and then hunt his coat pockets from treats with his black nose. He was an enormous, broad-shouldered dog with a huge head and a pink tongue that seemed ready to investigate everything.

Laughing, Will pet the dog down, uttering a few words to get him down on all fours once again. Will got to his knees to pet him properly. “That’s alright. He’s excited.” This dog was definitely not a poodle.

“Come on in, the babies are just back here in their room with mama,” the woman said, and led Hannibal and Will back through the house, then opened a door to a spare bedroom that had been turned into a puppy nursery. Inside were at least eight roly-poly labrador puppies, some black, some yellow, a couple of them brown. Their mother, a chocolate lab, lay on her side, exhausted, but wagged at Will and Hannibal and got up to inspect them. The puppies charged at the door, collectively. “They’re nine weeks now,” the owner explained, “the ones with collars are spoken for. They have all their shots and vet papers. Your husband said you wanted someone to go fishing with you?”

“Did he?” Will asked, quietly, looking over the tiny round dog babies and then over at Hannibal, taking his hand for a moment. The bastard. “Yes, I think anything outdoors, honestly.”

Hannibal winked at Will, his little game revealed. He would never dream of making Will tend to a fussy poodle, and after asking around the hospital decided a labrador would be a great fishing and hiking companion for his husband. “Have you ever owned a lab before?” the lady asked, as she set the chubby, pale yellow puppy in Hannibal’s arms to hold while she calmed the older dogs and fed them a couple of treats. Hannibal held the puppy with a bemused look when it began to lick his chin.

“I’ve only ever had strays,” Will admitted. “But they’ve all had their moments.” Will pet the fuzzy puppy’s belly in Hannibal’s arms.

The little puppy snuggled against Will’s hand and grunted, happily, then started to try and chew Will’s fingers. “Labs are … different. They’re filled with personality and while they’re smart unless they have a guide dog’s temperament? You’re in for a ride. But once you get a lab? You’re a lab person. If you survive the first month.”

“I’ve got a lot of patience,” Will said, taking the wriggly, fluffy thing from Hannibal.

The puppy snuggled under Will’s chin for a moment, then looked up at him with big, chocolate-dark eyes that shone under the lights, little tail wagging quickly before she tried to bite his nose, softly. “That’s a little girl, she’s not taken yet,” the owner said with a smile. “She’s not shy, and she’s the second born.”

“She’s perfect,” Will whispered, and gently moved her teeth from his face, smiling down at her like she was a real baby.

Hannibal watched Will fall in love. There was a certain new softness to his eyes and the slow blink of his eyelashes that told Hannibal all he needed to know. “I believe we’ll take her,” he said, as he pulled out his wallet. The puppy yawned and stretched in Will’s arms, letting her head thud down against his chest like she had known him for years, then started to snore against his neck.

Will laughed softly. “I’m claimed, we have to take her.” “She’s yours. My son named her Dottie, but you can change that, of course,” she said, as Hannibal counted out bills and passed them over.

Will scrunched his nose up against the puppy’s head to hide his face from the name, and then kissed the puppy’s head. “We’ll think of something fitting.”

“I’m sure we will,” Hannibal agreed as he accepted the papers and a little ziplock bag of puppy chow. The woman walked to Will and the puppy and petted the pup. “Okay, bye, Dottie. Be a good girl!” She kissed the top of the puppy’s head and stepped back. “Feel free to message and send photos. My son will want to see how she grows up.”

“Sure thing.” Will walked with Hannibal out of the house, wrapping the puppy up in his unzipped up jacket, keeping her fluffy and warm inside next to him.

“I’ll show you out,” she said. The mother dog just wagged from her spot where she played with the other puppies, but Tank, the father, tilted his head at Will and started to bark.

“No, Tank, it’s okay, honey. They’re taking her home…”

“It’s okay,” Will said and dropped to his knees again for the father, letting him sniff the baby they were going to take away. “We’ll take good care of her.”

Tank sniffed at his daughter in Will’s coat, then looked at Hannibal, and sniffed Will’s face before he gave him a couple of licks on the cheek, and stepped back to sit down, like he approved.

“There we go,” Will whispered and stood once more, holding their new pup against his chest. “Thank you again.” He turned to the woman and offered his free hand.

The woman shook their hands with a smile and showed them out. Hannibal smiled all the way to the truck, smugly, then opened the passenger door for his husband. “Do you like your poodle, Will?”

“You are awful,” Will whispered as he got in and buckled carefully. “Why would you do that?”

Hannibal helped Will fasten the buckle on his seatbelt, and started the truck. “I was curious to see what you would do,” he said and began to drive them home as the puppy snored from Will’s jacket. “Dottie is a terrible name.”

“See what I would do?” Will watched Hannibal, exasperated. “I thought we were passed all this… game playing.” Will rested his chin on Dottie’s head. “I’ll think of something.”

“This game had a happy ending,” Hannibal said with a devilish smile. “What about something dignified? Brunhilde? Persephone?”

“Those are as awful as you,” Will murmured, stroking her sweet, soft ears. The puppy grunted happily when Will petted her in her sleep. She woke up only enough to burrow into Will’s neck and breathed against his skin with a wet nose. “Surely not quite as awful as I am,” Hannibal sighed, shooting his husband a look.

“Do you want to pride yourself on being worse than the dog we name?” Will asked, teasingly. “She needs something simple, so we’re not stuck having it take forever to say when we’re yelling for her.”

Hannibal sighed, considering the multitude of options. “Daphne?”

“Like… from Scooby-Doo?” Will asked, brows raised. “Dare I ask what that is?” Hannibal asked, as the puppy grunted again and licked Will’s scruffy jaw in her sleep.

“You don’t want to know. It’s a cartoon from my childhood.” Will pet their puppy to soothe her. “But it’s a little fitting.”

“Perhaps it’s best if you name her, Will. She is your dog, after all,” Hannibal said, and could not help but smile when Will pet the puppy to settle her down, which she did, much like a human baby.

“You’ve seen what I name dogs,” Will laughed. It wasn’t much better.

“Yes, I would loathe for you to name her Gertrude, or Esther,” Hannibal teased, softly.

“Let’s…” Will stared down at the little girl pup in his arms. “It’s so hard to decide. She’s stuck with it once we do.”

“Names carry a tremendous amount of weight,” Hannibal noted. “They can be responsible for being the first stone in the foundation of identity.”

“She’s going to be a strong, bold girl,” Will said with a little smile. “... Buffy? Xena?”

“Xena?” Hannibal repeated with surprise. “It sounds familiar, but I cannot say from precisely where.”

“She’s… a known warrior princess from ancient Greek times,” Will explained, carefully, biting the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.

“Not one I can remember,” Hannibal said, suspiciously, and looked at his husband with an arched brow. “From what country, precisely?”

“Thrace, in Amphipolis,” Will said humming a little. He hoped it was enough to convince his husband.

“It’s preferable to Buffy,” Hannibal conceded, a little annoyed that he had never heard of the myth Will mentioned. “Xena it is.”

“Xena Warrior Princess,” Will stated to their newest family member, proudly.

“Warrior Princess?” Hannibal repeated, slightly impressed. “You’ll have to relay the myth to me, Will. It’s one I have never encountered,” he said, genuinely interested.

“There are some very accurate documentaries we could buy if you were interested,” Will said with a little, elusive, smile.

“You’ve never taken an interest in mythology before, Will,” Hannibal said, with a slight narrowing of his eyes.

“I don’t talk about it to you,” Will said with a look, smirking to himself. “Because you make a big to-do about it all, and never give anyone else a moment to talk about it.”

Hannibal huffed, quietly, as Xena yawned and stretched in Will’s coat. “By all means, purchase the documentary in that case.”

“Good. You’ll…” Will shrugged. “We’ll see how you like it.” He got out his phone and searched on Amazon, fittingly enough.

“Is she beginning to wake?” Hannibal asked, and in response, Xena’s yellow head poked out of Will’s jacket for another big yawn before she looked around, and tried to climb out of Will’s coat so that she could explore the truck.

Will put the phone away with a sigh, and held onto their new baby. “She is, yes. How could you tell?”

Xena whined and pawed at the dashboard, squirming to climb up as close to the window as she could. “Intuition,” Hannibal said, dryly.

Will laughed, holding on to her but let her explore while he did. “Very much.”

Xena put her front paws on the dash of the truck and looked out at the world as Will held her so that she could do so, then barked at another dog on the sidewalk, who was going for a walk.

Hannibal chuckled at her feisty, but small voice. “Not that we would ever require one, but she may grow to be a good guard dog.”

“Always good to have your dog as backup.” Will held her up so she could see out more, all the people and cars, other animals.

Never having seen the world outside before, Xena wagged in Will’s arms, wiggling her entire body with it as she watched traffic and pedestrians. “How large do you think she will become?”

“Pretty big,” Will said, looking forward to when she was bigger and going out fishing.

Xena barked again, at a woman walking with a stroller, and whimpered at the unfamiliar item, then hid against Wil’s chest, tucking her big round head under Will’s shirt collar with all four paws on his chest.

Will chuckled and pet down Xena’s head to soothe her. “But she’ll be small for a little while.”

“Is there anything she will need at home?” Hannibal asked, able to remember that Will’s dog in Wolftrap had beds and toys.

“A bed. Some toys. Bowls for food and water. I can make her food, so we won’t need to buy that.” Will pet down Xena’s soft fur, to her wagging tail.

“Should we find a store on the way home?” Hannibal asked, already scanning the scenery for somewhere to stop.

“I’m sure we can find one.” There were a few but Will had never been into them since they didn’t have a dog.

“If you see somewhere we should investigate, let me know,” Hannibal said, and looked at Xena’s face as she peered at him, then started to walk over Will’s chest to try and climb onto Hannibal.

“Well she likes you,” Will said, holding her back from distracting Hannibal. “Sorry, got her…”

“She is curious. I smell a little differently than you do,” Hannibal chuckled, and looked at Xena’s paws swimming in the air to try to reach him.

“She’ll get her chance to sniff you when you’re not driving.” But he did move her a little closer so she could at least smell him from there.

Hannibal made a face as Xena licked near his face, her pink tongue flapping at his cheek in the air. “I’m sorry, Xena, I only enjoy kisses from Will.”

Laughing, Will pulled her back, holding her firmly to his chest. “She’s going to be a handful.”

Xena answered Will by putting her tiny paws on his chin and licking his nose, eagerly. “What, precisely, goes into dog food?” Hannibal asked, and then smirked. “Aside from that blonde woman from the party the other night?”

Will narrowed his eyes, playfully. “Ground meat, I use turkey usually. Broth, carrots, rice…”

Hannibal pulled the truck over, into a parking spot at the side of the road. “In that case, I will go to the market and you can take Xena into the pet store beside it,” Hannibal said. Xena perked up and started to look around again, excited that the truck had stopped.

“Done.” Will slipped out with the puppy in his arms. They needed a collar and leash first if he expected to do much else in the store.

Hannibal watched Will for a moment, before he disappeared into the upscale fresh market next to the pet store, and came out to join Will in the shop after a few minutes. Xena barked the second that Will carried her into the pet store and squirmed to be let down to get at the treats that sat in boxes on low shelves. Will managed, after a few minutes, to get a collar on her first and then a leash, and held her tight on it so she wouldn’t get too far. When he had everything, he finally met Hannibal out front with Xena leading the way back to him, Will’s arms full.

Three teenage girls walking down the sidewalk stopped at the sight of Xena and rushed over, squealing over how cute she was as they knelt to pet her. While Hannibal smiled to himself, they peppered Will with questions. “How old is she?” “What’s her name?”

“Can I hold her? Do you have more? Are you adopting them?”

“Xena, we just adopted her. She’s eight weeks,” Will answered, giving Hannibal a look over the bags and dog bed in his arms.

“She is so beautiful! Xena? Like the tv show?” One of the girls asked as Hannibal raised an eyebrow at his husband.

“Yeah.” Will sighed, sure he’d never hear the end of it now. Not that he _wasn’t_ going to tell Hannibal, but he did want to try and get him to watch the show before he told him.

The girls wandered off after petting Xena thoroughly, and Hannibal watched them with a smirk. “I think you may have to become used to a certain amount of attention with Xena in public,” he chuckled and took the pet store bag from Will to put in the truck with their groceries.

Will put the bed in and then picked up Xena as she wagged. “I might have to.”

Hannibal held the door open for Will and the puppy and closed it after they were seated in the truck, then got in the driver’s side, and began to head home, again. “Did they produce a television series about Xena, as well as a documentary?”

“No… the TV show is the documentary.” Will held Xena in his lap and gave her one of the treats he bought and had in his pocket.

“I see,” Hannibal said and watched with dismay as the puppy ate the treat with sloppy, ravenous vigor. Crumbs flew everywhere and she vacuumed them off of the knees of Will’s jeans. “I do hope they fed her…”

“They did, but she’s a growing puppy,” Will offered, giving her a pet through his ears and then tugged on them playfully.

Xena twisted and fell on her back on Will’s legs. She gave a tiny growl and tried to eat his fingers as her tail slapped against his knee, playfully.

“Your dogs in Wolftrap ate in a much more civilized manner.” Hannibal turned right, headed off of the highway, back into their neighborhood, toward the coast.

“They were well trained, she’s still young.” Will tugged on her tail, too, laughing.

Xena barked and nearly rolled off of Will’s lap to get his hand, then when she caught it, held it at her mouth with her paws and gnawed at his fingers. Hannibal smiled over at them, silently, and knew they should have done this long before. “Here we are,” Hannibal said, as he parked in front of their stone, two-story house on the corner lot. “I’ll carry everything in, you carry the …. Baby.”

Will smiled and cradled her up in his arms, and then got out, slowly. The ground was cold so he didn’t put her down. He unlocked the front door and pushed it open with his hip, and then finally let her down to sniff around and explore.

Hannibal carried both trees in, first, through the house and then out into the backyard, and returned for their groceries and dog supplies. He looked over his shoulder at Xena once he was in the kitchen. Xena sniffed at the polished floor, then looked back at Will, wanting him to follow her as she padded through the house. She waddled, still a chubby little pup, and slapped her paws on the ground with every step. “Does she seem to approve?”

“I think so,” Will chuckled, walking behind her every step of the way. He hung her leash for walks by the door and picked up their stray shoes and tucked them into a closet.

Xena followed Will, eagerly. As soon as he started to pick up the shoes, she clamped her mouth on one of Hannibal’s leather loafers and started to wrestle it, dragging it away from Will and down the hall.

“No, no,” Will said, prying her tiny teeth from the leather, and then tossed it in the closet too. He shut the door and then scooted her back toward the living room and tossed her a chew toy instead.

Xena tried to catch the chew toy, and chased it, then flopped her entire body on it and began to chew it with ferocious gusto. “What did she do that you told her not to, Will?” Hannibal asked as he rolled up his sleeves, and donned an apron.

“Chewing on shoes,” Will replied, watching Hannibal fondly before coming up behind him, a hand to his lower back.

“Which shoes?” Hannibal asked as he washed his surgeon’s hands in warm water, and looked back at Will behind him, while Xena wrestled her chew toy next to Will’s feet.

“Your loafers.” Will pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s jaw and then knelt beside Xena to tug on the toy, playing with her.

Hannibal frowned at the puppy. “My black loafers?” he asked, as he unwrapped the freshly ground lamb meat, and put it into a large pan, then began to fill a pot with water.

“I got her before she tore them up, we just have to keep everything away from her,” Will insisted. “Puppies love to chew.”

“I’ll have to take precautions, in that case, after I’m through cooking,” Hannibal said, and looked back at the little golden puppy chewing her toy at Will’s feet. She managed to gaze up at Will with big, shiny, dark eyes and tried to give him her toy.

Will laughed and took the toy and tossed it for her to go get again. “We’ll just need to puppy proof a little.”

Xena chased the toy, and wrestled it with a tiny growl, then dragged it back to Will, proudly. “Had I known, I would have ensured the house was ready.”

Hannibal browned the lamb quickly and kept the contents of the pan moving constantly with a wooden spoon before he sliced the carrot into the pan, and added rice to his water, moving quickly and with ease as he cooked for Will’s puppy.

For _their_ puppy.

Will picked the toy up and threw it again. He stood and wrapped his arms around Hannibal from behind and kissed the back of his neck. “When she tires out and falls asleep we’ll get it done.”

Hannibal smiled back at Will, over his shoulder as a loud, piercing squeak rang through the house. “What is-” The squeak sounded again and again, in rapid fire as Xena discovered that her toy made a sound when bitten. Delighted, the puppy danced around, shaking her toy as she squeaked it loudly.

Will laughed, watching her. He’d only ever had one puppy, but never this young. “She’s the cutest.”

“Do all toys for puppies make such a sound?” Hannibal asked, over the racket. Xena threw her toy in the air and tried to catch it, then pounced on it again, wagging her entire rear end.

“Most of them do, just like children’s toys make noise,” Will said and kissed Hannibal’s jaw again, overly affectionate now that he _didn’t_ have a poodle.

Hannibal just looked affectionately exasperated and leaned into the kiss as he put a lid on the rice, and turned the flame low. “Perhaps a nice, quiet stick…”

Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal and kissed him again. “Is it already so bad?”

“I may be a touch dramatic,” Hannibal whispered and turned in Will’s arms to face him. “I am sure Xena will calm down very soon.”

“We’ll hope for the best.” Will smiled and kissed Hannibal softly, thankful.

Hannibal closed his eyes and kissed Will a little more deeply. Their tongues tangled together, intimately, and Hannibal’s hands closed in Will’s shirt, behind his back, before he pulled back to gaze at Will. “Perhaps she’ll be a little lady.”

A tinkling sound came from the living room as Xena relieved herself against the white area rug near the velvet sofa.

“Don’t think that too soon,” Will sighed, pulling back to go see what mess was made. He grabbed the carpet cleaner and brush he’d bought at the pet store.

Hannibal sighed, and pulled on a pair of medical gloves from a kit under the sink, then frowned down at the yellow stain on the carpet. “Shall I remove the stain while you show her where to do her business, Will?” Hannibal asked, flatly.

“If that’s what you’d like, I’ll take her out,” Will said, not willing to leave the mess for Hannibal unless he wanted to help. He picked up Xena and moved her out to the backyard.

“Please,” Hannibal sighed, as he crouched down to consider how best to salvage his rug.

Xena wagged when Will picked her up, and kissed his cheek, utterly unaware of the rule she’d broken by peeing on the priceless rug. She perked up, even more, the second they stepped outside together, and sniffed at the air, struggling to get down to explore.

“Okay, okay,” Will said and bent over to put her down so she could explore their backyard.

Xena ran off to chase a leaf that was blowing around in the breeze, and Hannibal stepped outside his jaw set. “I rolled the rug, and stored it in the basement, for the time being. How long does a dog take to learn not to soil the house?”

“Depends on if they were training her or not where we bought her from,” Will commented, watching tromp around the yard. “Shouldn’t be too long if we’re consistent with it.”

“Basic operant conditioning, I imagine,” Hannibal murmured, into a glass of white wine, and sipped it. “Does she have training treats? Some sort of reward?”

“Yes, they are in my pocket.” Will had sneaked a few into his pocket so that he had some on him if she was good.

Hannibal nodded and watched Will watch his ‘baby’ run around the yard with the leaf in her mouth that was nearly as large as her head. “Will she work with you in the garage during the week?”

“Yeah, I think that’s the best spot for her so I can watch her,” Will replied and stood closer to Hannibal, eyeing his drink. “Already?”

“You have a history of collecting and adoring strays, I have a long history of collecting and adoring well-crafted area rugs, Will,” Hannibal said, as he sipped his drink with a little smirk.

“It will pass. I bought puppy pads we can lay down on spots she shouldn’t accidentally pee on,” Will suggested, one hand on Hannibal’s waist.

“Incontinence pads?” Hannibal asked, with a little sigh. They never had visitors to the house, but Hannibal cringed internally at the thought of pads coating the floor. He did, however, lean into Will’s arm around his waist.

“For now, she’ll get the process soon and we can install a little doggy door for her so she can get in and out on her own.”

“Doggy door?” Hannibal asked, with a look in his eyes that suggested he’d never considered such a thing.

“Yeah, so we don’t have to get up with her every time she needs to pee at night,” Will explained, curling his fingers into Hannibal’s hip.

“But, you would have to put a hole in the wall,” Hannibal said, with disapproval, and fought not to lose focus as Will touched his hip like that.

“They make some you slip right between the door and the wall. Still keeps it shut tight, but with a hole big enough for her to go through.” Will pressed his lips to Hannibal’s jaw. “But if you want nighttime potty duty, we don’t have to.”

“Surely she will be able to hold her bladder overnight,” Hannibal said with a look at their beautiful backyard doors, inlaid with custom windows that ran the length of the door itself.

“Hope won’t save your sheets or more rugs,” Will pointed out. “But we don’t have to. You can have puppy duty tonight.”

“Very well,” Hannibal said, airily, and sipped his wine again as he watched Xena rip the leaf apart. She threw the pieces in the air and then rolled in them before she got to her paws and barked for Will.

Will let go of Hannibal and walked over to Xena, petting her once. “Did you kill the leaf?”

Xena picked up some of the leaves and gave it to Will, proudly, then flopped over heavily, on his feet, and fell asleep. Hannibal walked closer, head tilted. “Is she asleep already?”

“Yup,” Will laughed and scooped her up, holding her to his chest, and brought her inside to the doggy bed.

Hannibal used his phone to take a photo of Will as he carried the puppy, and held the door open for him, then gestured for him to sit on the sofa. “Sit with her, I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Will sat down on the sofa near where he had the bed for Xena, and watched her, smiling, her paws moving a little as she dreamed. “Alright…”

Hannibal watched Will for a moment and touched his hair as he passed into the kitchen, returning with a small plate of bread, cheese, smoked meat, and grapes. “Something to tide us over, until lunch.”

“Nothing crazy,” Will insisted, taking a picture with his phone of the sleeping pup.

“Crazy is hardly an easy term to define in any context, Will,” Hannibal said, dryly, as Will photographed the sleeping puppy’s belly as it rose up and sank down over and over in her sleep. Hannibal had never seen Will dote quite so intensely on anything as he did on the little yellow pup.

“I just mean I'm not starved, so don't go overboard.” Will saved the picture and then took a video.

Hannibal looked on as Will began to video the sleeping puppy, and pulled out his phone to record Will recording the puppy. “Some foie gras, perhaps? Sushi?”

Will was beginning to act like a besotted new father.

“Sushi?” Will looked up at Hannibal filming him. “What are you doing?”

“We are, both of us, documenting that which we fear to lose,” Hannibal said as he turned off his camera, and looked at Will, over it with a smile in his eyes. “Is that no to the sushi, Will? Not a favorite food of new fathers?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to go out of your way to make it,” Will shrugged, smiling at Hannibal and put his phone away. “I can help you.”

“It’s simple enough,” Hannibal said, as he considered Will and his smile. “I’m sure you have puppy-proofing to do while I prepare everything. The virtue of having a cold meal is that if we must attend to her, no reheating will be necessary.”

“Alright, alright,” Will said, standing and stretching. “Do you want me to hide all the expensive rugs?”

“For now, yes. If you don’t mind,” Hannibal agreed and watched Will stretch, eyes raking over his form.

Will hung up his coat and then got to work, bending over to gather and roll the rugs that had nothing covering them first. He pulled one over his shoulder and put it in the other ones for now.

Hannibal used an app on his phone to turn up the heat in the house by a few degrees, even though it wasn’t necessary, and watched Will work as he began to prepare sushi rice in a small pot.

After ten minutes of hard work, Will stopped and shed his flannel shirt, too, and tossed it over the sofa, down to just his khakis and an undershirt. He got all the rugs up and shoes put away where the puppy could not get.

Hannibal was dicing strips of fish by then, very slowly, as he watched Will move furniture to get at the rugs, and then haul them around. “Anything else she might cause trouble with?” Hannibal asked.

“I hope not. I’ll move the vases too,” Will said, picking off anything breakable, for now.

“I think the coffee table is crooked,” Hannibal said, with a sly glance at Will, eager to watch Will move the table.

Will sighed, looking at it, and then moved it a little more, bent over, sweat glistening on his skin, shirt sticking to his body. “Better?”

“A little to the left, please,” Hannibal requested, and set his knife down, utterly absorbed in watching Will’s body move and flex.

Will pushed it again, over a bit more. He looked over his shoulder at Hannibal watching him. “Now?”

“Much better,” Hannibal sighed, and walked closer to Will, with an unmistakable grin.

“Have I indulged your fantasies enough?” Will asked, straightening and giving Hannibal a once more in his apron.

“I doubt it will ever really be enough,” Hannibal said and took a step closer.

“Years of making up to do?” Will asked, slowly starting to strip off his undershirt.

“As I said before, nearly a decade,” Hannibal whispered, and strode closer to help Will peel his undershirt off.

The shirt came off, revealing planes of muscle hard earned over the last three years of constantly working in the garage. “Then I won’t complain.”

Hannibal pulled Will into his arms by his belt, and kissed him in reply, both of his palms slipping up the slope of Will’s back, nails digging in, possessively. Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders, kissing him back with a hum. Hannibal’s hands on him like that pushed Will into a needier state as Will pushed Hannibal back toward the dining room. Hannibal groaned at the push, and let Will shove him all he wanted to, not breaking the kiss for a moment. Will pushed Hannibal up against the table, enough so that he was sitting on and Will slid between his legs, kissing down into his mouth with heated fervor.

With a low moan, Hannibal pulled Will closer as they kissed, and undid his belt with nimble hands, then nearly ripped Will’s pants undone at the front.

“Needy,” Will managed through gasps and kisses, tugging on Hannibal’s sweater to get it up and over his head.

Hannibal smirked, wickedly, before he raised his arms so that Will could strip the soft sweater from his chest. “You seem to be projecting, Mister Graham…”. He reached into Will’s pants, and curled one hand around Will’s cock, stroking already.

“Maybe we’re reflecting the best of us both right now,” Will groaned, tossing Hannibal’s shirt to the table, reaching under his apron to undo his slacks.

“I do enjoy it when we feed off of one another, Will,” Hannibal whispered. He arched his hips to let Will slip his trousers off, intrigued by the way Will chose to leave his apron on.

Trousers off, Will stepped out of his own along with his underwear, leaving it in a pile at his feet. “Literally?”

“Possibly,” Hannibal whispered and rubbed one hand over Will’s ass as he stroked him with the other. His own trousers slid off, the expensive material pooling on the floor. He wore nothing beneath, having hoped Will would notice at some point.

Oh, he definitely noticed now. Will raked his hand up Hannibal’s thigh and stroked him under the apron, a little fantasy of his own since he could remember the first time he thought about Hannibal like this at all.

Hannibal’s jaw dropped, his mouth ajar, and he spread his bare thighs. “Apron on, Will?” he moaned. He’d been doing most of the work so far, which Hannibal did not mind in the least. Feeling that Will was ready to take a more active role, however, was incredibly arousing.

Physically seeing Hannibal _want_ him sent Will into overdrive, hungry for more of what they had done the night before, to touch and feel, connect in ways he’d only ever thought about. “Yes,” was his reply as he kissed Hannibal again, tugging him toward the edge of the table.

Hannibal moved to the edge of the table, and then off, the apron tented over his cock as he bit at Will’s lower lip and twisted his fist around Will’s cock. “You noticed the way I looked in them, at some point … and liked it,” Hannibal whispered, breathlessly, smiling against Will’s beautiful mouth.

“So much that I knew I’d have to have you in just the apron someday,” Will whispered, biting at Hannibal’s mouth as he worked his fist around Hannibal’s shaft.

Hannibal’s smooth nails dug into Will’s ass where he gripped him at the touch and leaned back against the table as Will worked him over. “I am all yours, Will,” he panted.

“Are you?” Will gasped, hands shaking as he realized Hannibal was letting him do whatever he wanted, to take control and take what he needed. “Completely,” Hannibal whispered back, their eyes connecting, as Hannibal leaned in for another hot kiss. There was no one in the world to whom he’d rather hand over control to than Will.

“Hold on,” Will said and walked to the counter to grab the olive oil. Then, he kissed Hannibal more fervor, coating his fingers with the oil, he pressed his legs further apart, bending over him.

Hannibal’s breath hitched when he saw what Will returned to him with. He wrapped both arms around Will’s neck, hands in Will’s hair and leaned back over the table as his thighs spread for Will. He’d fantasized about every possible way to touch Will, and to be touched by Will. Will wanting him enough to take charge was one of his favorites.

Will pressed a finger against Hannibal’s pucker, waiting for it to give as they kissed, hot and frenzied. “I know you wanted to fuck me here, but I’d like to take you first.”

“Yes,” Hannibal agreed, immediately. His cock throbbed even at the suggestion and the touch of Will’s finger, chest heaving hard. “Yes, Will, please…”

Pressing in his finger until it gave past the first rung of muscle, Will breathed out heavily, anticipation for the first time doing this to… anyone. He kissed down Hannibal’s jaw to his neck, licking his pulse. “Good-”

Hannibal’s head fell back, and he watched Will through lidded eyes as Will’s finger slid into him. “Good,” he whispered, both fists clenching and unclenching against the edge of the dark wood table.

Will pushed and turned his finger, making room as he slipped in a second, well-lubricated finger, reaching in deep to brush against Hannibal’s prostate. “Tight.”

“And this … is only your finger, Will,” Hannibal gasped, the pleasure of having his prostate stroked making his head spin. “Imagine your cock,” he whispered, looking up at Will while he said it, and rocked down against Will, needily.

“I won’t need to imagine soon,” Will whispered roughly, licking over Hannibal’s pulse once and then kissed him, bitingly. He pushed both fingers in, moving them to open Hannibal for him.

Hannibal kissed Will back, the same way, both of them all teeth and tongue, devouring one another as Hannibal clung harder to Will when Will fingered him open. “Soon,” he whispered, between ravenous meetings of their mouths.

Will’s free hand stroked Hannibal’s cock, trying to do both at once, mostly just breathing and biting at his mouth. “I… love you.”

Hannibal’s eyes opened, surprised, and he stared at Will for a moment. His eyes looked like he’d had several glasses of wine, quickly, and he cupped Will’s face to kiss him, hands trembling. “I love you, Will,” he whispered, over a tight throat while his body arched.

“Good,” Will breathed against Hannibal’s mouth and slipped in another finger for good measure, then he slicked up his cock and pulled them out, readying himself against Hannibal’s pucker. Hannibal felt himself shudder with anticipation, his eyes wet, and pressed himself down, against Will’s cock. The first touch of the tip of it against his ass was blissful. “Fuck me,” he whispered, against Will’s wet, bitten lips.

At that, Will pushed Hannibal’s back to the table and grasped his hips, pushing himself in slowly until he was hip deep to the hilt. “Oh, fuck-”

Hannibal’s head fell back, against the table, and the muscular, sinewy small of his back arched off of the mahogany wood.

“Will-” he managed, shaking with pleasure as Will breached him, and sank inside, hip deep.

It was hard to believe that this was real. Will and he had conjoined physically as they had emotionally, psychologically. Hannibal had no words to describe it, in any of the languages he spoke.

Pressing himself in just a little more, Will pulled Hannibal's ass off the table and pulled back enough to plunge back in, creating a rhythmic pace. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal wrapped his legs around Will, ankles hooking behind Will’s back as Will thrust into him, slowly. “Is this what you expected, Will?” Hannibal asked. The apron had ridden up around his waist, leaving him exposed for Will’s eyes and hands, while both of his own hands clenched against the table top.

“Yes,” Will whispered as he drove into Hannibal, pounding in short bursts, his hand taking over Hannibal's chest, the other grasping his cock.

Hannibal’s eyes rolled back and he closed them, able to feel Will’s cock, curved perfectly inside him, rubbing hard against his prostate. He ran a hand over Will’s arm as it stroked him, desperate for contact. “Good-” he managed, his voice ragged with the beat of Will’s hips beating against his ass.

Will picked up the pace, passion, and lust pushing him forward, into a heated debate, sweat slicking his smooth torso. “Hannibal-”

The table, sturdy though it was, began to rock underneath the men. Hannibal squeezed Will’s waist with his legs, keeping him close as he reached a hand up to grab at Will’s waist, and pulled him down so that Will was leaning over him while they fucked. “Harder, Will,” he whispered, lips brushing Will’s ear as he clung to Will’s back, tears brimming as he felt his body begin to curl and coil tightly.

Grunting, Will worked harder, heat working through his spine, spreading down to his thighs. His sweat-slicked skin slipped against Hannibal's as he fucked him, getting hard into him. “Fuck-”

“Will,” was all Hannibal could manage, and his legs trembled as they squeezed harder around Will’s waist. A low, broken string of curses in Lithuanian escaped Hannibal’s lips as he began to come, with one hand twisted in Will’s hair, and tears streaking from his eyes down the sides of his temples into silvery hair.

On the edge, Will pivoted with more staggering whips of his hips. Gasping, he wrenching his hand around Hannibal's cock. “I'm so close.”

“Come,” Hannibal whispered, “come with me, Will,” he managed and felt the tight ball of scorching heat at the base of his spine explode in white-hot light.

Moaning and gasping for breath, Will came hard and hot in Hannibal, the tight squeeze of his ass milking very last bit from him. “Hannibal-!”

Hannibal felt as though he had come so violently that he had left his body for a moment, and looked down on the two men locked together in a sweaty, rough dalliance on the dining room table.

When he came to, again, he and Will were breathing as they had on the cliffside, covered in sweat, but not blood this time. He pulled Will closer, over him, embracing him with both shaking arms as another tear rolled into his hair from his brimming eyes. _Will loved him_. There was no going back from that moment. Will loved him.

Smiling slightly, Will gazed at Hannibal, awestruck within himself. He kissed Hannibal sweetly, holding him. “I… could get used to that.”

“I hope that you do,” Hannibal whispered and smiled at Will, their faces close enough that their noses brushed. Hannibal snuggled into Will’s arms and swallowed over a knot of emotion in his throat.

“I also meant what I said,” Will whispered back and kissed Hannibal lightly on the mouth. “I do love you.” Hannibal took a deep, shuddering breath, and his eyes glossed over again. He touched Will’s cheek with his hand and leaned up to kiss him. “Those are words I was not certain I would ever hear.”

“I’ve held it back long enough,” Will said and gave Hannibal one more kiss before sliding out slowly. Hannibal sighed at the feeling of Will sliding out of him, and ran his fingers over Will’s neck, adoringly. “I love you too, Will, but you’ve known that a while.”

“I have, but it’s nice to hear from you.” Will nuzzled Hannibal’s face at the touch.

“I will never stop loving you, Will,” Hannibal said, honestly. “I have tried,” he said, with a sad smile, “it is the only endeavor in which I have failed, utterly.”

“There’s no need to worry about trying not anymore,” Will sighed, content, and finally stood straight to find Hannibal something to wipe up with. He found a spare towel and brought it back over.

Hannibal sat up and used the towel to clean himself, then pulled Will closer, to kiss him. “I think that is the joy of this period of our lives, neither of us need to try to uphold a facade, at least not with one another.”

“We are finally on the same level,” Will agreed, kissing the promise of it into Hannibal’s mouth.

“In the same place, in every way.” Hannibal hummed and kept Will close, his hands against the small of Will’s back. They heard a little howl from the living room, and the sound of puppy feet searching for Will on the polished floor.

Will chuckled, kissed Hannibal one more time, and then put his boxers back on before going to find Xena. “I’ll get her.”

Hannibal removed his come stained apron and smiled to himself as he dressed again, slowly, then took the apron upstairs to put in the laundry hamper, and returned with a fresh one from their well-organized linen closet. “Any more accidents?” he asked Will, as he returned to making their lunch after washing his hands. Hannibal was still glowing from inside out, his hair not quite as perfect and orderly as it usually was.

“No, not yet. Letting her out so she can if she needs to though,” Will said with grin dressed again and now watching Xena from the back door as she romped around the yard.

“You’re already quite attached to her,” Hannibal said as he began to slice fish for sushi, and vegetables, with an impressive looking Japanese knife.

“I am.” There was no denying that for Will, he loved the puppy too much already and would completely heartbroken if she was taken away.

“Have you imagined losing her, already?” Hannibal asked, well aware that Will’s mind would gravitate from his love for his adopted, non-human daughter to the very worst that could befall her, immediately.

“Yes.” Will sighed and looked over at Hannibal, shrugging. “Too good to be true, it feels like a dream.”

Hannibal paused in his preparation of their meal and set the knife down to walk over to Will. He was, he suspected, more aware of the associations made in Will’s mind, just below his level of consciousness than Will was. He wrapped both arms around Will, from behind, his face next to Will’s. “I promise never to take her from you,” Hannibal said, solemnly. “Under any circumstance.” He had an impulse to name the dog Abby, for Abigail, and resisted it in an effort to avoid this association.

Will turned his head just enough to catch Hannibal’s eye, gazing at him for a long moment as he committed the look on his face to memory, so he’d know Hannibal meant it. “I trust you.”

Hannibal kept his promises, no matter how noble, no matter how vicious. “Would you ever want a child, Will?” Hannibal asked as they looked at one another and Xena ran around the yard, chasing after another errant leaf.

“I have long since given up that idea,” Will murmured, leaning his head against Hannibal’s, staying close as though they had done this forever.

“We’ll content ourselves with a dog, for now,” Hannibal agreed, and kissed Will’s cheek, still watching him, up close. Xena ran to the door and stared at them, then whimpered to be let in when she discovered she could not reach Will through the glass.

Will opened the door for her and then bent down to help her wipe her paws on the mat first, and then let her in. “One baby at a time.”

“Let us remember that when Xena is larger and you encounter another puppy,” Hannibal said, with a wry smile as he took a photo of Will wiping the baby’s feet for her, then went back to the sushi, beginning to roll and arrange it.

“When she’s bigger, she won’t be the baby,” Will pointed out and scooped her up.

“I believe she will always be your baby, Will. Call it a psychiatrist’s intuition,” he smirked and turned his phone on the counter to show Will the photo of him holding Xena and helping her wipe her paws off.

Will looked down at the picture and then gave Hannibal a side glance as he set Xena down and put out a bowl of water by the door for her. “Maybe…”

Xena ran to the bowl of water and began to slap her paws in it, splashing happily as she bounced up and down, full of what seemed to be limitless energy after her nap.

Will went to get a towel and then put it down under the bowl of water, shaking his head. He then dried her paws again. “She’s going to be a handful.”

Hannibal sighed, as he arranged their sushi on a plate. “Even for a puppy?” he asked, amused as Xena squirmed when she was dried off and ran off to pounce on the cord of a plugged-in lamp, trying to bite it.

“Even for a puppy,” Will sighed, going to take the cord from her and tie it up with a zip tie for now.

Xena jumped over and over, deciding that it was a game, and she had to get the cord. Hannibal brought the sushi to the kitchen table, aware that a formal meal in the dining room was not possible at the moment, and set the table before he whistled softly. Xena’s ears perked up at the whistle, distracted, and she bounded toward Hannibal. “You are being very naughty,” he chided her. Hannibal scooped her up with one arm and looked at her brown eyes with a little smile. “A mischievous nature is often a sign of fierce intelligence.”

Will finished putting the cord up and away from puppy teeth, and walked over to Hannibal, taking a picture with his phone of him with Xena. “I’d say that’s very true about her.”

Hannibal sighed as he watched Xena blink at him, and then begin to try and bite his sweater collar, which he distracted her from with a bit of carrot. “I have seen it before in toddlers, and small children,” he chuckled. “The more they make you suffer at this stage, the more you love them when they have grown.”

“Then she can only grow on you from this point,” Will replied, happy to watch Hannibal with their new ‘baby’.

Hannibal’s eyes took on a distant look, and he set Xena down, gently, as she chewed the carrot stick. “Lunch is served,” Hannibal said, as he removed his apron, and poured a whiskey for Will.

Will touched Hannibal’s waist first and then kissed his jaw on his way to the table to sit and eat. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Hannibal said, a little light returning to his eyes when Will kissed him. He set Will’s drink on the table, poured his own and sat down to eat. Xena followed them, and flopped down over Will’s feet, chewing at his sock as she wagged.

Will wiggled his toes at her, and rubbed them against her soft fur when he sat down. “It looks amazing.” He could tell Hannibal was a little more reserved at the moment.

“Given the chaos, a baby of any species brings into a household, I have a feeling we may have it, frequently,” Hannibal said, with a sip of his wine. He looked at Will, not the puppy, now.

“Agreed,” Will said and took a piece of sushi from the platter and onto his plate with a little soy sauce.

“Shall we bring her upstairs for the night? If we place an infant gate across the bathroom in either of our rooms, she will be safe from harm, as will the room in which she is kept, and close to us,” Hannibal mused, between bites. Xena, meanwhile, rolled over and yawned, starting to doze off with her round, fuzzy head on Will’s foot.

“Good idea. We’ll be more aware of her if she needs to go out,” Will said and ate the sushi, chuckling as he felt her start to nod off.

“We’ll have to purchase a gate,” Hannibal said, and looked at the sleek watch on his wrist. “I can find something if you’d like to stay home with her.”

“I can do that,” Will said, not minding at all, figuring Hannibal was still warming up to their newest family member.

Hannibal nodded and sipped his wine. “I’m certain I can handle her while you’re out,” he said and took a look at the sleeping puppy with a sad smile tugging at his lips. “She has tired herself out with her own wickedness.”

“Well, which is it? Do you want to go find it or me?” Will knew Hannibal would find something pleasing to the eye, and Will would just pick something that worked. He rubbed his foot over her belly. “She has.”

“You go,” Hannibal said, “and if you see anything else she will need, you know more about the needs of dogs than I do,” he said, smiling a little again at the way Will pet the puppy before he looked away and drank his wine, deeply.

“Alright,” Will agreed and then took another piece of sushi.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this please considering reblogging on [Tumblr!](http://constructfairytales.tumblr.com/post/172894858763/willhannibal-to-mend-with-gold-510)


	6. Chapter 6

Will left for the store, and the instant Will climbed into his truck, his phone beeped with a text notification. Hannibal had sent a video of Xena sitting at the door, howling at it, despite Hannibal’s best attempts to comfort her by petting her back. The puppy had settled on Will, and her heart was audibly broken that he would step out, without her.

Will hadn’t even left the driveway yet when he got it and sighed. He turned the truck off and walked back into the house. “How about I text you a list of things and watch her while I continue to puppy proof?”

Hannibal was attempting to hold Xena, who squirmed, and barked at Will when he walked in, wagging frantically. “That might save my hearing into my old age,” Hannibal agreed and passed the puppy over to Will with a little smile.

Will took Xena and sighed, holding her, and soothing her. “We wouldn’t want you hard of hearing so soon.”

Hannibal petted her back now that she was calm, and watched her tuck her head under Will’s chin, sniffing his neck to see where he had been. He went to the closet to get a long coat and donned his shoes. “I won’t be long,” he promised his husband.

“We won’t be going anywhere,” Will promised back and leaned to pull Hannibal over by his sweater, and kissed him.

Hannibal leaned in, and kissed Will, softly. It still felt new and sent sparks of pleasure down the long path of his spine. He pulled away with a soft smile. “I should hope not. Send your requests for what you may need.”

“I will,” he said and hugged the puppy to him as she calmed. Will one handedly got out his phone and sent an item text to Hannibal. Puppy boots.

Hannibal texted back once he was in his Lexus: _very well._ He pulled out of the driveway, headed to the nearest pet store that was open.

Will finally put Xena back down and she followed him around the house as he continued to pick things up and put them where she couldn’t reach. In his cleaning and tidying, he found a sketchbook in Hannibal’s, in a drawer, where Will was putting away socks so the puppy would chew them. He pulled it out and started to flip through it.

Most of the drawings inside the sketchbook were, of course, portraits of Will. Hannibal had made several studies of Will’s hands, the curls of his hair, his eyelashes, and then several beautiful full body portraits, and one of his sleepy face over a cup of steaming coffee.

Will looked like an angel that had been scarred in battle, but was still as radiant as ever, at least in the eyes of the artist. Hannibal had colored in a couple of the portraits with watercolors, rendering them surreal and beautiful, especially the faded denim blues of Will’s eyes and the pink of his rosy lips. On the last page of the leather-bound book was another portrait, one drawn in excruciating detail, of a little girl. The little girl was sitting on the grass, with a firefly near her hand, which was reflected in the dark chocolate brown of eyes that matched Hannibal’s. Unlike Hannibal, the little girl seemed impish, and full of trouble, with golden blonde hair and a sly grin. Castle Lecter stood in the background.

Will smiled at the picture as Xena pulled his sock off once more and started to play with it at his feet. “Mischa…” he said out loud, touching the drawing with his fingers. He looked down at the puppy, realizing their color schemes were similar. “Oh…”

Will put the sketchbook away and finished up tidying, and then went down to the cellar to find Hannibal’s favorite wine.

Xena took Will’s sock to the top of the stairs and lay at the top, chewing it until she saw Will again. Upon seeing him, she gathered up the sock and scurried off, but tripped over it’s length and went sliding across the floor. “Silly,” Will laughed, wine in hand, he scooped her up and kissed the top of her head. He set her down again by the back door and opened it so she could go out if she wanted, hoping she’d get the idea to do her business out there.

Xena just laid down and looked outside, at the sky where it began to rain from moody blue and purple clouds that had collected overhead. The sea turned slightly greener and the waves churned, slamming down against the shore below as the wind picked up. Winter in Vancouver was wet and stormier than it was snowy. Hannibal returned home not long after the storm began, and walked in with a few bags and the boxed baby gate beneath his arm. His hair was wet with rain, as were his cheekbones and shirt collar.

“I opted for a wooden gate, they had nothing with a dark finish. Light will have to do,” he said, as he set everything on the kitchen island.

“That’s alright,” Will said, setting out two glasses near the decanting wine. “I think we got everything put up and away.”

Hannibal glanced at Xena, who ran over to greet him from the door, wagging. He sighed and crouched to let her sniff his leather glove, which she tried to chew, immediately. “She’s not frightened by the rain outside? I think it is going to thunder.”

“Not yet. I’ve opened the door for her to explore, but she’s been content with watching from inside,” Will said and poured up the glasses of wine.

Hannibal noted the wine and stood after he took his gloves from Xena’s needle-sharp puppy teeth. “This is a pleasant surprise,” Hannibal said, and looked at Will, with a tilt of his head.

“You’ve seemed a little… off since we picked up Xena, so I thought maybe we needed to unwind a little,” Will offered, handing Hannibal one of the glasses.

Xena began to fight the cuffs of Hannibal’s pants, and tugged on them, wanting to play. He looked at Will, surprised, and fished a little pink ball from inside the bag, snapped the price tag from it, and tossed it across the floor for her, then said something in Lithuanian. Xena jumped up, twisting around, and bounced after the ball, barking at it as Hannibal watched. Finally, he took the wine. “I’ve never had a dog, before,” he said, softly.

“I figured as much,” Will chuckled and took a long sip. “They can be a handful, but also the most loyal.”

Hannibal sipped his own wine and noticed Will had pulled out a bottle that he loved. It was touching to know that even when he had pretended not to care, Will had been watching him, noticing him. “I have had a hand in raising an infant, long ago. She was delightful and troublesome,” he said, softly, as lightning struck on the beach, in the distance.

“Your sister?” Will asked, carefully, wanting Hannibal to know that he paid a lot of attention, and cared deeply. Thunder boomed and then rumbled, and Xena abandoned her ball, running over to Will to hide under his legs at the loud noise. Hannibal nodded and moved to their fireplace to build a fire, in case the power went out. “Yes. I’m aware that this is a strange thing to say, but the puppy’s coloring, her energy, and nature have reminded me, quite forcibly of her.”

“I thought that might be it,” Will said and followed, gathering Xena up in his arms as he took a seat near the fire.

Hannibal stacked the dry wood, neatly, and lit it, then closed the safety screen over the growing flames, and sat with Will on the sofa, looking at the pup as she snuggled into Will’s chest. “Mischa was playful, always taking my things, even chewing them when she was teething. I kept many books with her uneven tooth prints in the covers.”

“She sounds nothing like you,” Will teased, soothing the puppy with his chin over her head, and took a sip of wine.

“We were both clever,” Hannibal said and smiled at Will. The cracks where he had broken when Mischa died, so young, showed in stark relief at the moment. It was something he had never willingly shown anyone else. “My parents, as most parents of their class, were fond of us but took an arm’s reach approach to parenthood, and entrusted our day to day care to nannies and wet nurses. I was different, with Mischa. I wanted to care for her myself. We were inseparable.”

“You wanted a real family, so you treated her like a family should,” Will commented, taking another sip, scooting closer to his husband so their thighs touched.

Hannibal nodded as he leaned against Will, and looked down, into his dark wine before he took a sip. “I think that is what I’ve always wanted,” he murmured. “No doubt, there was a subconscious drive to select a litter of puppies with her coloring, her energy.”

He looked at the puppy who was half asleep now, happy to be warm and safe with Will.

“I was not prepared for the psychological impact.”

“We can start here, and now, our own family,” Will offered, feeling a little bit bad about having gone off and married into a premade family before.

Will inserting himself into a family had stung, just as badly as Will marrying someone else at all, had. Hannibal shut that door tightly, in his mind, and looked at his husband.

“I believe we already have,” he said and reached over to pet Xena’s back as another rumble of thunder shook the panes of glass in the windows.

“Are you sure?” Will asked, wanting Hannibal to be as comfortable with Xena as himself.

“Yes, I’m certain,” Hannibal said, as he stroked his hand over the shivering puppy’s fur, and set his wine down to go to the bags he’d left on the kitchen counter. He returned with a soft white blanket that he used to swaddle the puppy in a little roll, then put her on Will’s chest, again, and sat beside them. Xena sighed, and settled in, feeling more secure with the gentle squeeze of the blankets as the storm raged on outside.

“She’s so little,” Will sighed, holding their new ‘daughter’ to his chest as if she were a real baby.

“She’s already very bonded to you, Will. This is only the first day,” Hannibal said, with a smile, and looked at Will holding the little bundle. “Imagine the two of you running off to fish while I cook,” he chuckled at the sheer domesticity of it.

“Is that another one of your fantasies?” Will asked, head canted, enjoying their time like this, and not wound up and careful with one another.

“I have so many of them, Will, it’s difficult to keep track,” Hannibal teased as lightning flashed, closer to the house this time.

“I can tell.” Will watched for the light and then listened for the rumble. “It’s getting closer.”

The rumble drowned out Will’s words, and another flash lit the room through the windows, then the power went out. Everything became perfectly quiet, save for the beep of the fire alarms switching to battery power. Xena startled, and Hannibal rose, smoothly. “A good thing we have a fire,” he said, and sauntered down the hall to stop the fire alarm from beeping at them. He returned to the couch with a small plate of macarons for Will and held the plate for him. “Vanilla cookies with a whiskey cream center,” he explained.

Will had never been huge on sweets, but since knowing Hannibal, he’d come to love them. He picked one up and ate it all at once. “Mm…”

Hannibal watched his husband with a smile and leaned over to brush little crumbs out of his growing beard. “I did my best to keep the vanilla from becoming too sweet.”

“It’s really good,” Will murmured around his bites, chuckling.

“Preparing something you truly enjoy has become one of my simplest pleasures, Will. You look nearly surprised when you taste it at first, and then you hum a little as you eat,” Hannibal said, knowingly, his eyes shining in the firelight. “In another life, perhaps that is how we met,” he murmured, with a smirk. “You were a handsome customer at my bakery and I seduced you with my trade.”

“In another life,” Will sighed, happily, sipping the wine.

“I’m quite happy with this life, at the moment,” Hannibal said, as he admired Will’s profile in the firelight.

“Now that you’d finally tamed me?” Will chuckled, petting Xena’s ears to soothe her.

“I think I’ve done the opposite of tamed you, Will. I have re-introduced you to the wilderness within.”

“You know what I meant,” Will said with a look, the faintest of smirks across his lips.

“I know what you meant,” Hannibal agreed with a smile, and leaned closer to kiss the smirk from Will’s mouth.

“Maybe I should have said caught,” Will whispered against Hannibal’s lips, reeling from how far they had come in two days time.

“Caught is a much better way to put it,” Hannibal whispered back against Will’s lips and slid a hand over Will’s thigh.

“Finally caught each other after having our lines crossed and tangled,” Will murmured, shifting ever so slightly under Hannibal’s palm.

“It’s difficult to say who lured whom, in the end,” Hannibal murmured, as he gazed at Will.

Will reached to set his glass down, holding Xena in one arm. “It is,” he agreed, canting his head back as he leaned in against Hannibal.

“You remind me of the world’s most alluring, and most cantankerous siren,” Hannibal laughed, able to imagine Will scowling at sailors he lured to him.

Will chuckled quietly, not to wake the pup, and smiled at Hannibal up close. “World’s worst siren.”

“You would lure them close, and then demand to know what they were looking at,” Hannibal chuckled, fondly.

“Is that what happened to you?” Will rubbed his free hand over Hannibal’s thick thigh.

“Precisely,” Hannibal agreed, as he moved closer.

Will gently set Xena down next to the arm of the sofa, curled up in her blanket, and then crawled back over to Hannibal, straddling his thighs. “I’m not so bad now.”

“Not at all,” Hannibal whispered as he ran his hands over Will’s well-sculpted thighs, and inhaled the scent of his neck.

Nuzzling his nose against Hannibal’s jaw, Will then brushed their lips together as the storm raged on outside. “Just making sure.”

“You have acquired a taste for me,” Hannibal whispered, against Will’s mouth, then bit his lower lip.

“I’m growing addicted,” Will quipped with a nip of his own teeth against Hannibal’s upper lip.

“By all means, indulge.” Hannibal’s chest was already rising and falling sharply with deep breaths as he ran both hands over Will’s ass.

There was something quietly romantic about the dim lit of the room from the fire, and the rain pouring down outside that seemed to match the rush of their breaths. Will had never felt a desire so lingering and wanton in his own belly, and only wished he’d given into his tastes long before now. He kissed Hannibal fully on the mouth, hands threading through his silvery hair.

Hannibal laid back against the couch, and pulled Will down against him, trapping heat between their bodies as rain pelted the windows. The rain had made the same sound the night he’d gutted Will and walked away. It felt as though they had come back to that moment, and this time, they had everything right.

It felt right, it was so much better, this was how it was meant to be. Will could feel it down to his very marrow.

He writhed over Hannibal slowly, rutting his hips down against him, creating sweet friction as their tongues tangled together.

Hannibal undid Will’s belt, slowly, his hand moving with the undulations of Will’s hips, then reached inside the open fly to cup his cock, a moan escaping Hannibal’s mouth between them both. “Will-”

Lifting his hips, Will’s pants dropped to his thighs, having not bothered with his boxers after their first round earlier. He kicked them off altogether, one leg at a time, and then kissed his name out of Hannibal’s mouth, heatedly. Hannibal pulled Will down, quickly, and stroked his fingertips over Will’s cock as thunder rumbled through the house. Will was already hard again, perfectly erect. Hannibal wrapped one hand around him, stroking with unhurried heat.

They’d both gone years near each other and yet so far apart. Will was hungry to curb his appetite but it just kept getting bigger with each moment he shared with Hannibal. “Hannibal…”

“Tell me, Will,” Hannibal whispered as he thumbed the head of Will’s cock, watching the color rise in Will’s face as he made a pearl-sized drop of precome collect at the tip, “what do you want?”

“I want you to take me like you’ve always wanted to,” Will whispered, breathlessly, hitching inching up with each pass of Hannibal’s fist.

Hannibal’s eyes flashed black in the firelight, and he seemed perfectly still for a moment before he yanked Will closer by his shirt, and kissed him hard, then cupped both hands under Will’s ass, and carried him into the dimly lit kitchen to lay him on the quartz island countertop.

“I get the feeling we’ll be in the kitchen a lot,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s mouth, spread out on the counter, he pulled his shirt off, in just his socks now.

“Where else might I devour you?” Hannibal rasped, and pulled Will’s socks off, then kissed his way up one leg. “We’ve christened the dining room already.”

“The counter it is,” Will breathed, toes curling as Hannibal did that, having never had such care taken before.

Hannibal’s dark eyes locked with Will’s as he kissed a hot, slow path up the inside of Will’s thigh, and nuzzled his balls before he breathed against Will’s rosy, erect cock. “There is something about having you utterly nude that is luxurious,” Hannibal whispered, and reached one hand up to Will’s nipple, teasing it with his skilled fingers as he teased Will’s cock with his tongue.

“Oh?” Will couldn’t find his words at the moment and laid his head back, eyes closed as he reached hands into Hannibal’s silver hair.

“The world is changed because you are made of ivory, and gold,” Hannibal whispered over Will’s skin, quoting a poem as he reached for the olive oil, and slicked his hands with it.

“Romantic,” Will whispered, opening his eyes again to watch Hannibal, eyes trained him on and everything he did.

Hannibal circled a finger coated with golden oil around Will’s entrance and sucked the tip of his cock at the same time. His dramatic cheekbones hollowed even more sharply, and he moaned around Will in agreement. The fire crackling, the rain pounding at the window, it was all incredibly romantic.

Will writhed and rolled his hips down on Hannibal’s fingers, used to the feeling from the night before, and all but begging for it again, plus some. “That’s good-”

“You’ve been remembering how it felt,” Hannibal whispered, as he slid a finger inside Will, more deftly this time, and crooked the tip of it just so.

“Thought about it all day,” Will admitted, grasping Hannibal’s shoulders, gripping tightly.

“Did you wonder,” Hannibal asked, as he slipped his second finger inside Will, smoothly, “what it might feel like to have my cock inside you this time?”

“Yes-” Will breathed out slowly, trying to relax. “But I wanted to be sure I got you first.”

Hannibal grinned at that, and huffed a soft laugh against Will’s lips, then kissed him hard. “Yes,” he whispered, “you certainly had me first.” He pulled his fingers from Will, and pulled Will’s lithe body closer to his own, cock slick and rubbing against Will’s ass.

Some of their games were about the firsts, and Will wanted that one the most, claiming Hannibal as his own, in his own right.

Will scooted down his ass off the counter for Hannibal, grasping his shoulders harder for leverage, waiting in anticipation.

Hannibal, in perfect control, lowered Wil just _so_ and pressed his cock inside Will for the first time. His jaw dropped, and for a moment, Hannibal’s eyes closed in bliss as he slid past the tight ring of muscle, and into Will.

Will relaxed his hips, hands gripped now into Hannibal’s forearms, leaning back on the counter for a better position. “Hannibal-”

For a second, Hannibal rested their foreheads together, just long enough to breathe, and then rolled his hips, smoothly, building a slow, steady rhythm inside Will, easing him into being penetrated. “Perfect, Will…”

The burning sensation lasted only long enough until pleasure started to course right over it. “Yes, fuck…”

Hannibal slipped both of his arms, one at a time, under Will’s legs, hooking Will’s knees over his biceps as he spread Will and drove his cock inside him at the same time. “There,” he moaned, shaking with the feeling of being _inside_ Will’s body, being allowed something Will had never allowed with another person.

As they connected, hilt to hip, Will groaned, shaking once through his whole body as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Oh-” His body burned hot with lust, coursing through his veins and pooling in his thighs.

Splayed open, and held aloft, Will was flushed rosy in Hannibal’s arms. Hannibal began to thrust harder, more passionately with Will’s moans, and their faces rested together again as Hannibal gasped. “Will…”

Panting hard, Will brushed their lips together, barely able to, and bore down on Hannibal’s cock with each pass, squeezing tight around him. “I… I love you.”

Hannibal’s nearly black eyes held Will whole and tore over at the words on Will’s lips. He kissed Will, brokenly, and their bodies rocked harder together, like the waves of the ocean in the storm outside. “I love you,” Hannibal whispered, roughly, “I love you.”

“Show me-” Will managed as he writhed, nearing the very peak of his orgasm, ready to crash down against the shore, into the cliff with Hannibal.

Hannibal set his jaw and thrust, harder, driving himself and Will to the brink as he began to gasp. Sweat rolled down the long path of his spine, over the brand Mason had left on him, over his flexing ass as he began to pound into Will, breathless and speechless. The thunder in the background rumbled as their bodies crashed together.

Will reached his arms around Hannibal the best he could as the heat spurred on his writhing and lead him to the very edge and then over, plummeting into a blissful sea of pleasure. “Hannibal-!”

Will’s body flashed hot and then tightened in Hannibal’s arms, squeezing around him as Will came in his arms. Lightning flashed and lit Will’s pale skin, scars and all as Will arched against the countertop, body straining and taut. Hannibal bowed his head and kissed Will’s arched back throat. His hands clutched against the outsides of Will’s knees, and Hannibal’s body shook as he moaned, words pouring out of his lips in another language as he spilled inside Will, in a hot wave that seemed to stop his heart for a moment.

The sight was more than Will could bear as he pulled Hannibal into a panting, hot kiss, sweaty as their bodies slid together, smearing his come between them. Softer, “Hannibal…”

“I love you,” Hannibal whispered, panting against Will’s lips, then picked him up, and carried him into living room, to lay on the couch with him, in front of the fire.

Xena had moved to a nice warm spot by the fire, leaving the couch to them both as they laid out on it, wrapped around one another. Will smiled against Hannibal’s lips. “I love you, too.”

Hannibal laid next to Will, with his back to the fire, silhouetted by flames. “Is that something you’d like to do again?”

“Yes,” Will answered, hand resting on Hannibal’s hip, watching the way Hannibal’s eyes were dimly lit and bright with the glow of the fire.

“Good,” Hannibal whispered as they stared at each other. “I would hate to think we only were able to do that once.”

“I would not deny you now that I have you.” Will smiled, slipping his hand up Hannibal’s side and around him.

Hannibal snuggled closer, and wrapped one leg around Will’s hips. “Nor I, you.”


	7. Chapter 7

By morning the next day, the storm had passed and the electricity was back on. Xena slept in her puppy bed in their room all night, and Will took her out once, and Hannibal did the same. Not bad for a first night. Will woke first and took her down stairs and let her out front while he started the coffee, haphazard in his robe and slippers only, he went back out front to watch her.

A small car pulled up, rumbling, and the engine shut off when the driver spotted Will. The driver’s side door opened and Molly Graham stepped out, her eyes locked on Will as she slammed the driver’s side door.

“David, right?” she asked, with an edge in her voice.

“Yes…” Will said with a raised brows, jaw shifting a little. “Something I can help you with?”

Molly glared at her former husband, stonily, and opened the back passenger door. Four dogs burst out, and ran over to Will, up the lawn, all of them whimpering and wagging as they jumped at their missing person. “I just came to return a few things,” she said, still glaring.

She advanced up the impeccably kept lawn, jaw set, and crossed her arms over her chest. “I figured you might miss _them.”_

“I… did,” Will said, carefully bending over, holding his robe shut, as he pet the new dogs, and Xena came over to sniff them out, barking.

“Already got a new one,” Molly said and shook her head as she laughed, incredulously. “New ring, too. Should I even ask? Is there a point? Is he inside?”

“He’s sleeping,” Will murmured, with a sigh. “We just got her yesterday. I wouldn’t say that’s ‘already’.”

She stepped closer and kept her voice down as the dogs ran around the yard. “I thought you were _dead!”_ she hissed at Will, furious.

“That was the point,” Will said in a hushed tone, whistling at the dogs to get them inside, Xena following. He motioned Molly toward the door. “If you’d like to have this conversation, it’s best to do so inside.”

“You think I’m stupid enough to go inside with _him_ in there?” she asked, and looked at Will, swallowing hard. “Or you?”

The dogs ran inside, eager to explore everything with the new puppy.

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Will said, voice down, and stepped closer to her. “That was the whole point of making you believe I was dead.”

“So you _planned_ it?” Molly asked, and shook her head at Will. “I can’t believe you. Was it an act? Was _everything_ an act?”

Will’s jaw shifted slightly as he leaned forward, keeping their voices between them, hushed. “No. It wasn’t planned until it was the only plan that worked. I couldn’t go back to our lives when there was so much damage in it. I’d caused enough.”

“So, what were we, exactly?” Molly asked as she looked down the street, with wet eyes. “Were Wally and I just a place to hide? Just a disguise?”

“You were what I wanted--what I _needed_ ,” Will confessed, aware of how selfish he’d been, but not openly so with Molly.

A figure stood in the open doorway, watching the fighting pair with a calm expression. Hannibal’s expression was serene as he observed them. He’d dressed in a pair of his own trousers, but pulled on one of Will’s flannel shirts, and rolled it up at the forearms. Molly didn’t notice his seemingly benign presence, too focused on her husband. “You needed something to make you look normal,” she snapped at Will. “That’s what I am, isn’t it? What I was? I can’t believe I fell for it. I was so … stupid. My parents never liked you, actually.”

“Well, I never liked them either,” Will said with a huffed sigh. “I’m sorry I hurt you, Molly. It was never my intention, but it is how it’s worked out.”

Molly stared at Will, incredulously, and shook her head. “That’s … that’s it? You’re sorry? You’re just sorry? Because, what, shit happens? Sometimes shit happens and you just have to run off with a-” “Good morning,” Hannibal interjected, smoothly, as he sauntered out of the house, toward them with a good-natured smile on his lips. Molly’s eyes widened as she looked at him, and she blinked a couple of times, speechless. “Yeah. Hi,” she said, defensively. “You must be Mrs … I suppose it’s Foster now, isn’t it?” Hannibal asked, politely. Molly just stared, like a rabbit facing down a speeding car in the dark, and her shoulders came up a little as she closed her coat around herself, more tightly. “Yeah.”

Hannibal tilted his head at her, and for a moment they just stood there, looking at one another on the lawn. Everything Molly felt was written on her face, in the nervous, awkward blink of her eyes. Hannibal, on the other hand, was even more tightly controlled and graceful than usual. “Are you coming in for coffee or leaving?” Will asked, keeping his robe closed with his hand, having not expected to deal with company.

“I …” Molly looked as if she really did not know for a moment, and looked at the open door, then at the neighbor’s house where a blonde woman next door let her blinds snap shut again, caught spying through them. “I um, I … could come in. For a second, I guess,” she said, and fussed with her tied up hair, nervously. “I … have a box of stuff for the dogs in the trunk. I’ll get it,” she said, and shuffled away to get it out. Hannibal watched, blinking regally for a moment as he looked her over, evaluating the woman Will had chosen to replace him, then sighed, and moved with regal, patient poise to offer to take the heavy box. Molly was surprised and hesitated before she handed it over, obviously not expecting him to be courteous.

Will touched Hannibal’s lower back with a look of thanks, and then headed inside. “Excuse me while I… get dressed.”

Hannibal nodded as he let Molly step inside, first, and followed her with the box, then closed the door behind them. He watched Will retreat upstairs and set the box of dog’s supplies on the counter. “Coffee? Tea?” he offered, and then extended his hand for Molly’s coat. “Coffee, I ... “ she nodded. “Coffee’s fine.”

The dogs swarmed Hannibal and sniffed at him, some of them not well groomed or bathed. Xena barked and flopped over as Winston nuzzled her once. Will came down a few minutes later in jeans and t-shirt, a button-down left open over that, since Hannibal had gone through his things to wear what he was going to.

Molly was standing near the window, holding a cup of coffee and avoiding Hannibal’s eye contact while she let him make idle small talk to pass the time until Will returned. “There you are,” Hannibal nodded, and set Will’s coffee on the island, made just the way Will preferred it.

“Now,” he said, and focused on Molly. “Considering the care with which we’ve relocated and attempted to maintain our privacy, I’d like to know how you found us, Mrs. Foster.”

“I’m not here to turn you over,” Molly said, quickly. “I just wanted to see Will. I … think, I thought, he owes me an explanation.”

Will sighed, taking his coffee and sipping it once before he looked at Hannibal and then Molly, leaning with his back against the counter. “I told you I’d be different when I got back. I thought it was better not to go back, because of that.”

“Different?” Molly echoed, incredulously. “That’s the … understatement of the year, Will! You faked your _death_! We … we had to go to your funeral. Wally’s buried two fathers, now. Two! You’re … “ She paced, shaking her head. “You thought it was better that you left because you were different? That’s … I’m sorry, Will, that’s bullshit. That is _bullshit._ Oh, I found that book you were hiding, by the way. In the shed. That was nice.”

“Book?” Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head, and watched them argue as though he was facilitating a session of couple’s therapy.

“Doctor Du Maurier's book,” Will said flatly. “I was curious.” He gave Hannibal a knowing look and then cut his eyes to Molly once more. “I left because nothing was going to be the same. I wasn’t the man you needed or wanted, I was trying to be what I thought I needed to be, and it worked, but I can’t do that anymore. I know myself best with Hannibal.”

“What does that even _mean?”_ Molly asked, angrily. “You know yourself best? So-” She stopped herself, and set down her mug. She was obviously tired, haggard from the stress of the long trip and everything that came before. “So let me … get this straight. You tried to be a good guy, that didn’t work, you were always … _this?”_

“I think everyone has layers. I had some of mine peeled back, and I didn’t like it at first, but I learned to,” Will said, steadily, clearly not happy about how he’d left, but he had hoped she would let it rest.

Hannibal smirked into his coffee cup and listened to the telling, stunned silence from Molly. “Molly, what do you feel when Will speaks of his layers?” Hannibal asked, neutrally. “Pissed off, mostly,” Molly answered as she paced. “I mean, yeah, people have layers. I have layers, but, but-” she said, pointing a finger at Will. “Layers are usually things like ‘oh, I’m quiet at parties but I’m loud at home’, or ‘I tell everyone I do more yoga than I really do’, shit like _that,_ Will! Not -” Molly just gestured with one hand, speechlessly, and Hannibal tilted his head, watching her with a detached expression, then sipped his coffee while Molly fumbled for words. “You feel betrayed, Molly. You were abandoned and lied to. You are here for your reckoning. This is an event that will lay the foundation for how you approach the rest of your life, say to Will what it is you have been thinking as you drove here. It’s best to get it out.” “You’re … such a _selfish asshole!”_ Molly exclaimed at Will, with tears in her eyes. “You can talk about layers and knowing yourself and how you … told me you’d be different and it’s all just a bunch of fancy, poetic bullshit, Will! You promised to stay with me. You _promised,_ and you decided you’d rather jump off of a cliff than come home!? No. No. I’m … I’m done. I’m done. I thought you were a sweet man. You’re … I don’t want to know you anymore. I wish I’d never met you.”

After a strained, but unamused look at Hannibal, Will politely took everything Molly had to say and nodded. He… deserved it, honestly. He’d taken the road out of her life, for many reasons, and most of them were that he couldn’t be himself with her, he had to feed of her to be anything sort of good. “I deserve that.” He shrugged once. “I had no intention of seeing you or talking to you again, Molly. You drove here with a purpose. You say you don’t plan to turn us in, so is this all you wanted? To yell at me?”

Molly swallowed and pursed her lips together as Hannibal offered her a box of kleenex. She looked at it, guardedly, like he might have hidden a weapon in it, then took one, and dried her face.

“Like I said, I’m … I’m not going to turn you in. I should, I know,” she said after letting out a shaky breath and looked up at the ceiling. “But … I don’t want to do that.” Hannibal watched her, with a therapist’s eye. “You do not wish for your son to live through Will’s exhumation and conviction in the public eye,” Hannibal said, perceptively. Molly nodded and started to cry again, and he offered more tissues. “It’s … it’s been really hard for him…” she said, trying her best not to cry. Her voice going high and tight.

“I’m certain it has,” Hannibal said, sympathetically. “Neither Will nor myself ever intended for that, but it is, undoubtedly, our fault. For your son’s anguish, we apologize.”

Molly nodded her thanks, and blew her nose, then pocketed the kleenex so that she didn’t set it down somewhere in the spotless house. “I … after the … um, the funeral, these ladies came around. They were nice…”

“Ladies?” Will asked, taking another sip. He felt bad, but only to the point he would let himself. It was much better this way than to let Wally live with him any longer, not when Wally worried anyway about Will’s past.

“They … one of them said she used to work with you, I think,” Molly said, and took a deep breath. “They told me that they weren’t sure you were actually gone. I said they were crazy, at first, but … they kept talking and they offered to give me enough so that Wally and I would be well off if they were wrong. The more I thought about it, the more … the more I realized there was a lot I didn’t want to think about when we were married,” she said with a hard swallow and a look at Will. “Such as?” Hannibal asked, with gentle but insistent curiosity.

Molly, strangely enough, seemed to have accepted Hannibal’s role as therapist and answered him in kind. “He was always … kinda distant. There was a lot he sort of hinted at, but didn’t really say specifically when I asked about his past. Then there were … I found letters in his sock drawer one day, and he said he had his heart broken, really badly. I kinda felt like it was some ... “ She seemed to realize who she was speaking to and trailed off. “Anyway, Margot and Alana made the offer. They said they had tracked you maybe into Canada and someone reported seeing someone who looked like Will on the west coast but the tip didn’t make it to the FBI, somehow. I thought … what the hell, right? I knew you’d be somewhere you could fish. Their detective people kept reporting back that you might be in this town, and I just had a gut feeling... I knew you’d adopt a dog, right away. I took out a few ads in the paper, I called a few people who adopted out puppies lately and got lucky. I said I was your sister and I wanted one from the same litter. I snooped around a little, found your information, and … here we are.”

“All this to yell at me and get closure,” Will commented, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Worse yet, Margot and Alana knew where they were. That wouldn’t hold well with Hannibal.

Sure enough, Hannibal looked troubled, quietly. After a moment’s introspection, he spoke: “Did Margot and Alana have a message for us?” Molly nodded, and pulled a folded envelope out of her jacket, handing it to Will. Inside was a simple note, in Alana’s handwriting: _A life for a life._

Will frowned at it and handed it to Hannibal. “She thinks she’s even about something.”

Hannibal took the note and looked at it for a moment under the kitchen light. “I made her a promise, long ago. She is asking me to break my promise, and in exchange, she will not turn us over to the FBI,” Hannibal explained to Will, with a heavy stare of his dark eyes. He pursed his lips a little, in thought, and went to the cupboard to begin to prepare something for them all, keeping his hands busy.

“What did you promise her?” Will asked, giving Hannibal a look as his body turned to watch him. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal turned around with a cutting block full of fruit and bread, and met Will’s eyes, holding them as he pulled a blade out of his cutting block. Light from the fixture overhead shone off of the blade, answering the question for Hannibal with imagery. “A consequence owed, as much as a promise,” he said. “She was warned.”

He held Will’s gaze another moment and then began to prepare a small platter. “I made their son possible. If Alana were Faust, I would hold her contract signed in blood. She is asking for me to tear it up, in exchange for our continued privacy, here.” Hannibal began to arrange pomegranate seeds on a large white plate, carefully.

“And?” Will asked, going to the back door to open it for the dogs, to let them roam the fenced yard. Xena plopped down at his feet, tired from all the playing.

“It is an agreement to hold each other in check, for a lifetime, which is a delicate balance. We must consider the strength of Alana’s more noble impulses, and whether or not she may be tempted to succumb to them in a moment of moral pique.”

Will wanted to run in that moment, just pack the dogs and Hannibal and get out. He was afraid of this, settling and then everything being taken away. “Forever looking over our backs.” He turned to Molly. “Did they at least give you anything for coming?”

“I get paid, no matter what, as long as I delivered the letter,” she said, as she petted Xena’s belly. Hannibal tapped his fingers on the counter and looked at Will. “They know where we are now, no matter what our answer. That much cannot be undone. The rest is a question of trust, which is the basis of any truce, any ceasefire. Do we, and can we trust Alana and Margot to allow us to lead our lives so long as we permit them to lead their own?”

For an instant, Hannibal considered that if Molly were to vanish, they may never have to answer, but dismissed the thought, immediately. Margot and Alana were bright enough to know precisely what it meant if Molly were not to return: a declaration of open war.

“You pose a threat to Alana. She has no reason to come after to you unless she wants that threat fulfilled,” Will mentioned to Hannibal. “A threat for a threat, a life for a life. The only reason she has not had Jack burst in and greet us with the full force of the FBI is,” Hannibal said, and looked at Molly where she pet Xena, minding her own business. “She is a mother. She’s allowing us a chance to live peacefully and privately as a favor to your … former wife, Will. It’s much better to live as the widow and mourning stepson of an FBI hero who died in the act of killing two monsters than it is to be dragged through a media frenzy. Alana understands as much.” He turned to Will and spoke in a quieter voice, “she’s also quite conscious that even the fury of the Federal Bureau of Investigation may not capture us both, and the surviving party would pay the Vergers a visit, quite swiftly.”

Will had no qualms with Alana or Margot, but that was a conversation for another time. “That’s true. It’s better then, I guess, to be mindful and aware, but stay out of each other's way.”

“We accept, in that case?” Hannibal asked Will, over the counter, as he finished arranging the small, but artistic platter.

“Do we?” Will didn’t think they were done talking it over, but unless he wanted to pick up and go now, he didn’t see a choice.

Hannibal looked at the letter, again. “We can always kill them if it doesn’t work out,” he joked, dryly, and looked at his husband with a soft smirk in his dark eyes.

“A great idea,” Will said with a slight hint of sarcasm. “And then their son will be fatherless too.”

“Technically, he is already fatherless,” Hannibal pointed out.

“ _Parentless_.” Will scowled and finished his coffee, setting the mug on the sink. “Molly, would you like more coffee?”

“I … sure, might as well,” she said and brought her mug over, somewhat carefully. “It’s a nice place, here. Fancier than I thought you’d like.”

“It’s not just me that lives here,” Will commented and poured her more coffee. “Compromises.”

Molly nodded, and looked at Hannibal, briefly, then accepted her coffee, and took a piece of bread that Hannibal offered her. “Wally and I are going to move, somewhere warm,” she said, between bites, as Hannibal pulled out another kitchen knife, and very deliberately nicked his own thumb so that a drop of blood welled up. He let the dark drop roll over the pad of his thumb, and pressed it to Alana’s note, as a wordless signature.

“You always did like Florida,” Will murmured with a nod, small talk was not his thing. He gazed over at Hannibal.

Hannibal gave a slightly judgemental look at the mention of Florida, and offered the knife to Will so that he could add his “signature” to the paper.

“Am I to cut myself as well for this?” Will asked, wondering when Hannibal’s oath had become his own. He held his hand out to Hannibal, for him to do it.

Hannibal took the blade, with an honored expression. He could not help but think of the last time he’d faced Will in a kitchen, with a knife in hand. “It’s to both of us, we both have to agree for the pact to work,” Hannibal said, and took Will’s hand, then made a tiny cut in his thumb, almost tenderly.

Understanding, Will nodded and then pressed the drop of blood to the paper note, and left it on the counter to dry. More blood seeped from the tiny cut and Will sucked on his thumb to ebb it away.

Hannibal stared at Will, distracted and seemed to forget where he was for an instant before he folded the paper up once their thumbprints were dry. Will’s flannel shirt was slightly too narrow for Hannibal, and the buttons tugged when Hannibal moved. He handed the paper to Molly, who pocketed it, and set down her coffee. “I should get going,” she nodded, looking between the two of them with a sigh. “It’s been … pretty weird, actually.”

“We’ll walk you out,” Will said, taking Hannibal’s hand with his free one and tugged him toward the door with her.

Hannibal slipped his hand into Will’s and walked Molly to the door with him. Molly turned back at the door, once she opened it. “They had breakfast this morning. They’ll be hungry now,” she said, nodding at the dogs who watched from behind Will’s legs.

“I’ll make it. I’m sure they haven’t been properly fed in a while,” Will said with a tilt of his head.

Molly sighed and gave Will a look. “Anyhow, goodbye,” she said, with a nod, and looked at Hannibal. “Nice to meet you.” “Likewise,” Hannibal said, simply, and politely.

Will watched Molly leave and get into her car and then shut the door, leaning up against it. “What a great morning wake up.”

Hannibal sighed “A great deal less bloody than it might have been.”

“If we intend to stay here, it has to be,” Will murmured, shrugging.

“I confess,” Hannibal said, “when I came downstairs, it was not to make coffee.” He reached into the back of his waistband and pulled out two knives, then walked to the kitchen to place them in the sink, and begin washing them.

“Good thing I already had,” Will said, following Hannibal, and got out the last of the food they made for Xena and dispersed it into five bowls. “I can’t believe she drove here for that.”

“It’s hardly as though she constructed a ship by hand, and sailed across the Atlantic,” Hannibal said with a rueful smirk, and dried his knives with a soft cloth before he replaced them in the wooden block.

“She’s not a romantic, I guess.” Will said and approached Hannibal slowly. “Sorry she did that.”

Hannibal looked at the knife block for a moment, and then at the crowd of dogs. “There was a moment in the front yard when I was nearly certain you were going to say all of the things she wanted to hear,” Hannibal confided in Will, his mouth a sober, straight line, russet eyes fixed on the counter.

“Why would I do that?” Will leaned his hip on the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

“Historically, you’ve been a different man around different audiences,” Hannibal said, thoughtfully. “I believe proof that you have grown beyond that is what kept my blades sheathed.”

“It’s not like I was going to go back to her. I’m here, now, with you,” Will explained, frowning that Hannibal had not had faith in him.

“No, you didn’t. Nor did you seem tempted to go,” Hannibal agreed, softly, and looked down at the dogs as they gobbled the homemade food down with gusto.

To busy himself, Will got out a pot for rice and a pan for the ground lamb they’d bought yesterday to make more food for the dogs. He got out carrots to chop first. “I wasn’t.”

Hannibal walked to Will, and touched his back with one hand, then wrapped both arms around Will’s chest, and rested his head against Will’s from behind, just breathing in the scent of Will’s hair as he laid a palm over Will’s heart.

“You are becoming less quicksilver, and more iron, Will,” he whispered, approvingly, and kissed Will’s neck. “It suits you.”

What he had feared to find outside when Will faced Molly was the same thing he had feared when Will had begun to return his passionate attention: that Will would revert to shifting himself to fit the expectations and hopes of whomever he was opposite, that there was no iron backbone of consistency to his heart.

The way Will’s brain was wired made it very difficult to see people disappointed him-- his actions. If he didn't have to see them, it was much easier. Seeing Molly angry and distraught had tugged on him the same ways it had when he saw Jack in Florence. But, Will had spent three years building up a life, building his self-core and backbone. Hannibal had his attention, no one else mattered anymore.

“Am I so awful that you have to worry?” Will sighed, pouring the rice into the pot.

“You and I have a long history of inflicting hurts upon one another,” Hannibal murmured, as he held Will more tightly. “I would never blame you for a moment’s flinching at the sight of a linoleum blade in my hand.”

Stomach quivering slightly at the thought, Will tensed in Hannibal’s arms, all too aware of how close they were, that if Hannibal changed his mind in a second and thought Will would turn on him, he could easily just render him undone here. He was trusting that they had grown from those ventures, at least in the last few days.

“We’re not exactly those people anymore.”

“As you demonstrated today, no,” Hannibal agreed, with a kiss to Will’s temple. “We are not.”

“Thank you for not killing her,” Will whispered, aware of Hannibal’s transformation as well, that he’d held his place and actually _helped_ rather than make a gorey mess. He sagged back into Hannibal’s arms, all trusting, tension washing away.

Hannibal supported Will’s weight, easily, and smiled against Will’s curly hair. “I am still very open to killing that rude woman from the party, of course. Particularly now that we have _five_ dogs to feed,” Hannibal said, and looked back at the little pack behind them who were all lying on the floor, watching Will cook. Xena was already snuggled against Winston’s side, learning from him.

“I’ll take care of them. You can’t kill Barb, she’ll… be slightly missed,” Will murmured as he stirred the ground meat in the pan, browning it.

“We certainly cannot kill her anytime soon, after the scene on the lawn with your … ex-girlfriend?” Hannibal mused. He was well aware the neighbors had watched the exchange, if not heard some of it.

Will turned the stove under the browned meat off and turned around to look at Hannibal, still in his arms. “It wouldn’t do well for us to kill anyone around here, no, not after that.”

Hannibal smiled at Will and looked back at their _five_ dogs. “Do you think our house is large enough for our pack?” Hannibal asked, thoughtfully.

“I’ve lived in smaller with more,” Will insisted, arms around Hannibal’s waist.

“Likely with a larger yard,” Hannibal said, with a look outside, thoughtfully. His instinct was strong to move them after Molly had drawn attention to them. All of the pacts in the world would not save them if the FBI found them on their own.

Will ran a hand up Hannibal’s chest, over his heart, pressing over it. “How safe are we really? If Molly and private detectives can find us, so can Jack. All it takes is for Alana to say the word.”

“I’m considering precisely that question,” Hannibal said. “I have no doubt that Alana and Margot expect us to move, and to move far away,” Hannibal murmured, one hand over Will’s. “I agree that moving would be wise, but perhaps not as far away as they might expect. Let them search France and Australia while we take a trip to the island,” Hannibal said, thoughtfully.

“A trip? Or moving there?” Will asked, glad to be close enough to Hannibal now to talk this through rationally.

“A sudden disappearance altogether from the neighborhood may attract even more attention to us than Molly has already. A vacation would be wise, for two weeks, during which we will establish a new home. We can return for another month, and then say I have accepted a position in Argentina. Should the FBI ask, they will be given a false lead, and likely search overseas first before considering somewhere less exotic.”

“True,” Will said, looking over Hannibal’s shoulder at the dogs. “She’s made it extremely difficult to up and move now.”

“So she has,” Hannibal agreed, and smiled to himself. “Are you looking at your dogs, Will?” he guessed, just from the way Will’s heart sped up a little.

“Yes, and pondering how we’ll manage to get them to Argentina.” Will laughed at the thought, as though Molly had brought them all the way here just to make it that much harder on them to make a run for it.

“We will allow the neighbors to ponder that,” Hannibal said. “You could make a point of complaining about the paperwork necessary to prevent the dogs from being held in isolation on our arrival.”

“No point needed,” Will sighed, resting his head against Hannibal’s, gazing at him.

“We’ll leave tomorrow,” Hannibal said, and gazed back at Will, adoringly, then smirked. “You read about me? In secret? Kept letters in your sock drawer?”

“I read Bedelia’s take on you, not about you,” Will replied, honestly. “I did… for a while.”

“What did you think of her take on me, Will?” Hannibal asked as he smoothed his fingers through Will’s wild hair.

“I thought she was full of shit.” Will relaxed under Hannibal’s touch, never more aware of how tense he could without it.

Hannibal chuckled and kissed Will’s cheek, softly, then rubbed Will’s sore shoulder with his other hand. “A succinct, yet accurate review,” he agreed.

“She made herself out to be the victim, and we both know she wasn’t,” Will shrugged, taking a deep breath.

“Far from it,” Hannibal agreed and kissed Will’s cheek. “She became your victim, however. Breakfast?”

“I could eat.” Will’s stomach was far from ready for food after all that, but Hannibal insisted. Will turned the rice off and threw the carrots in to get soft.

“I think Xena has taken to Winston,” Hannibal said, as he found a clean apron and put it on. The buttons of his borrowed shirt strained when he tied the apron at the small of his back.

Will turned to Hannibal and touched the open spot on Hannibal’s borrowed shirt, biting his lip, and then turned away to strain the meat and add it to a bowl. “She has, and Winston is the good one.”

Hannibal noted Will’s reaction and smiled to himself. “Our resident angel,” he chuckled and tossed a bit of lamb to Buster, who caught it, midair.

The smallest member of Will’s old pack came to Hannibal, wagging, and sat at his feet to look up at him with a massive underbite that showed her protruding, crooked teeth. “Which is this one?” Hannibal asked, and dropped another little morsel for the ugly, but sweet-looking dog.

“Poptart. She’s getting up there in age,” Will sighed and bent down to pet her and her shaking limbs.

She sniffed at Hannibal’s legs, and leaned against him, tentatively, with her eyes closed. “You will have to re-introduce me to the rest of our refugees. I’m afraid it has been quite some time.”

“They know you,” Will laughed, looking at some of the newer ones that Hannibal might not know, but there were only two.

“Those two?” Hannibal asked as he allowed the large black dog with eyes the same color as Hannibal’s, and the even taller caramel colored dog with floppy ears to sniff at his hand.

“Yeah. Randy and Gabby.” Will laughed, having not met Randy, he didn’t know why Molly brought him.

Hannibal crouched to introduce himself to their new dogs. If Will could befriend his love of art and refined tastes, Hannibal knew he had to befriend Will’s dogs. “Strays?”

“Gabby I picked up from one of the houses Dolarhyde hit. Randy was Molly’s, not sure why she gave him to me,” Will said, taking the rice and carrots and putting it with the lamb, mixing it all together.

“Regardless, they are ours, now.” Hannibal washed his hands again and tried to set about making french toast, then looked down at Poptart, who remained on his heels.

“Is she always this helpful, Will?”

“She can be. She’s gotten reliant in her older age,” Will said and leaned down to pick her up off her arthritic legs.

Hannibal looked at Poptart and went back to slicing bread. “They all need a bath, I think.”

“I’ll do that while breakfast is made,” Will suggested with a look, and then kissed Hannibal’s jaw. He walked to the back door and opened it once more, letting the dogs pile out, and then went to get the hose and tub to fill with warm water. There were too many for the bathroom.

Half an hour later, Hannibal set the kitchen table with a simple, but elegant and comforting breakfast. He opened the door and watched Will with the dogs for a moment. “Breakfast is ready when you are, Will.”

The dogs were wet but being dried with a towel, and Will looked up at Hannibal, letting Winston go as he trotted back inside to sniff around the table, but sat the feet of it instead. “Just drying them all, one minute.”

“Do you need assistance?” Hannibal asked as he watched Winston sit down. He was certain Winston would refrain from stealing off of their table.

“Please,” Will said, knowing his dogs were well trained, at least the ones he had for a while, and hoped Molly hadn’t instilled bad habits.

Hannibal found the towel in the linen cupboard that he liked the least, and crouched the use it to dry Randy. The top button popped off of Will’s shirt and fell on the ground as the flannel gaped open on Hannibal.

Will watched his husband with a look of disdain, but honestly, he couldn’t be mad. “I hope you plan to sew that back on…”

Hannibal gave Will a look, over the large dog’s back. “I thought you would think this is an improvement.”

“If the shirt fits…” Will smiled a little and dried off Gabby and let her go, and then got Buster.

Poptart came to Hannibal, shivering, and he wrapped her in the towel before drying her with it, gently. “Would you rather I didn’t wear it? I could have sworn that I saw your distracted eyes being drawn to my chest while Molly was here.”

“You don’t need to wear my shirts to distract me,” Will murmured with a little chuckle. “Leaving a button or two undone does just the same.”

“Yes, but I wanted to make it clear that you and I are sleeping together, Will,” Hannibal said, with a smile as he rolled Poptart over carefully to dry her tummy.

“I think she got that when she saw the ring,” Will said with a more bashful smile and tilt of his head. He stood, the dogs dried, and scooted them all inside.

Hannibal admired Will’s smile, and carried Poptart inside, patiently. “French toast, eggs and sausage,” he said, as he set the little gargoyle down gently, and washed his hands.

Will washed his own next and then went to sit down. “Thanks, looks great.” Will was starved now, and cut into his food quickly and ate.

“I am fairly certain I could feed you porridge and you would still eat it with enthusiasm,” Hannibal said with a smile as he watched Will wolf down his orange and pomegranate infused french toast.

“If you make it taste good, I’d eat it,” Will insisted with a little grin. “I mean, you made people taste good…”

“People do taste good,” Hannibal said, simply, and ate a bite of sausage, then sipped some coffee. “But, thank you. What was your favorite dish?”

“I think the one we made together will always hold a special place,” Will said with an elusive look, taking another bite.

“Lomo saltado,” Hannibal said, reminiscing with a slight smile. “Had she not christened us Murder Husbands, I would suggest we remake the dish someday, with authentic ingredients.”

“It was still people,” Will commented and smiled. “She’s still at it, but I haven’t checked her website in a while.”

“Once we are safely installed in a new home, we should look into it,” Hannibal said with a smile. “Ms. Lounds is profoundly rude, but not always wholly incorrect.”

“She’s just a bit unethical, is all,” Will agreed and finished off his breakfast.

“Would you like a second helping?” Hannibal asked, amused, only half done.

“I’m okay.” Will took his refreshed coffee and sipped on it, watching Hannibal from over the rim.

Hannibal smiled at Will and offered him a strawberry from his plate, then swallowed another bite. “You seem much happier now.”

“Than what, exactly?” Will raised a brow at Hannibal and took the strawberry, picking the stem off.

“Than earlier, this morning,” Hannibal said, with a smile.

“Well,” Will shrugged, biting into the berry, “My ex-wife is now gone, and I have my dogs … most of them. I can’t complain too much.”

“Once situated on the island, perhaps we could disguise ourselves as a canine rescue agency,” Hannibal quipped, wryly, and ate another bite.

“You would suggest that,” Will laughed as he sat back, Xena and Winston at his feet. “It’s not a terrible idea.”

“The only possible complication with that idea is that should the FBI use the same tactic to locate us as your _former_ wife did, we could be found,” Hannibal noted.

Will smiling, aware, but the ideas were endless. They needed to hide, however, not draw attention. “True. Better to stay under the radar for a bit.”

“The island is populated with entrepreneurs of that sort, however. Artists, soap-makers, craftsmen, animal breeders,” he mused. “In the central city of Victoria, life is much as it is here. However, I think a mechanic and a physician living together may be a pattern we wish to avoid in the future.”

“A change of employ and scenery,” Will agreed with another sip of coffee, and then set his mug down, contemplatively.

“Likewise, a change in last names, at the very least, will be necessary. Any suggestions, Will?” Hannibal asked, with a little smile. “Perhaps, in our new life, I’ve taken your last name this time.”

“I’m not sure, what goes well with David?” Will teased, brows raised as he took another sip of his cooling coffee.

Hannibal considered their options, playfully, “Wolfe. David and Armand Wolfe.” He winked at Will, over his coffee. He loved dreaming with Will about their futures, creating with him out of thin air.

Will shrugged, he didn’t mind that, honestly. “It has a nice ring to it. Maybe we can whip up some documents and I can teach,” he suggested, not exactly sure how that worked since Hannibal had everything done for them the first time around, Will just had to get them here.

“Teach what?” Hannibal asked, with interest as he swallowed the last bite of breakfast, and laid his fork over his plate.

“I don’t know,” Will said and stood to refill his own mug and Hannibal’s.

“A substitute teacher, perhaps, at first,” Hannibal reasoned. “I could be an artist who works out of a studio at home.”

“We’ll be switching places,” Will laughed, sitting back in his chair once more. “You’ll be home with the dogs all day wearing my flannel.”

“I’ll be your trophy husband,” Hannibal smirked, and accepted his coffee from Will. There was no question, of course, that they would be married. Neither of them had even brought it up as a question.

“Sounds like something David Wolfe, substitute English teacher, would have.” Will smiled around the rim of his mug and then touched his bare foot to Hannibal’s shin.

Hannibal chuckled and moved closer to Will as he sipped his coffee. “Armand, the mysterious artist who speaks very little English.”

“You are not leaving me to host dinner parties with you pretending not to know English,” Will groaned with an amused twinkle in his sea-blue eyes.

“You can be very charming when you choose, Will,” Hannibal said with a smile, and stretched his leg closer to Will’s as the dogs began to nap on the living room floor.

“I can, but that doesn’t mean I want to be,” Will raised one brow and then snaked his toes up Hannibal’s pant leg.

“You’re being charming at the moment,” Hannibal murmured, warmly, and tilted his head at Will.

“That’s what this is?” Will smiled sweetly, slipping his toes up a little further with an alluring bite to his bottom lip.

Hannibal took a deeper breath and smiled back, his heart racing. “You are dangerously charming, at the moment.”

“Am I?” Will set his mug down, leaning back a little more to inch his toes a little higher toward Hannibal’s thigh.

“Bordering on seductive,” Hannibal smirked, and took a deep breath, spreading his legs wider, for Will.

Will removed his foot from Hannibal’s pant leg and slid it up the inside of his clothed thigh. “Can’t have that, we have so much planning to do…”

Hannibal’s thigh was firm and muscular under his pant leg, flexing against the touch of Will’s foot. “We can barely afford any distraction at all,” he murmured, with a sly smile, and leaned back in his chair so that the sun streaming in through the windows played in the chest hair visible where the button of Will’s borrowed shirt had popped off.

“None at all,” Will agreed softly, and pushed the ball of his foot into Hannibal’s groin, toes curling around his growing bulge, gazing at him with large, dark eyes.

Hannibal closed his eyes and arched his hips under the press of Will’s foot, already half hard at Will’s teasing. “I do hope you won’t be this charming with everyone,” Hannibal groaned.

“Only my husband,” Will promised with a smirk and pressed his toes into Hannibal’s groin harder, rubbing.

Hannibal’s lips curved upward in a smile, and he let his head fall back with a groan. “Will…”

“Hmm?” Will pressed his more, rubbing his foot up and down, watching Hannibal’s elegant features shift with pleasure.

Hannibal’s translucent eyelashes fluttered as he arched, and breathed deeply. His lips fell open and one hand gripped the edge of the table. He’d never had anyone arouse him this much with just the touch of a sock-covered foot. “Upstairs?” he managed.

“That might be a good idea.” Will removed the heat of his foot from Hannibal was on his feet quickly, hand out for his husband.

Hannibal was pulled up, quickly, and kissed Will with heat, both arms wrapping tightly around Will’s neck as Will’s scruff scraped Hannibal’s skin. Blindly, they backed toward the stairs without waking the pile of sleeping dogs, who had arranged themselves around the puppy.

Will managed up the stairs, pulling Hannibal with him without so much as breaking their contact, tugging the rest of the buttons undone off his shirt, and then undid Hannibal’s trousers.

Feeling Will tug at him, and undress him, _want_ him like this was utter bliss. Hannibal let the blue flannel shirt drop from his wide shoulders, and stepped out of the trousers on the stairs, wearing nothing beneath but socks on his feet. He kissed Will feverishly and tugged at the shirt Will had put on, unbuttoning it as he walked up the rest of the stairs. He managed to slip his socks off and was utterly nude in Will’s arms, tall and golden-skinned.

Will tossed the nice shirt somewhere behind them, hands on Hannibal’s skin the second he was naked, pressing hot and needy kisses into his mouth. He stepped out his own socks and then undid his pants and let those pool at their feet.

Hannibal tugged at Will’s underwear as they kissed in the hall. The feeling of Will’s bare skin against his own was more luxurious than any fabric on Earth. He stripped Will’s boxers down and pressed their bodies together as he hugged Will closer with both arms around his back. They breathed roughly, together, kissing without words.

Words wouldn’t have even been enough if Will could even think straight in the moment. He pushed Hannibal down on to the bed and then crawled over him, straddling his hips as he had a few nights ago when this was at it’s very newest, having found his strength in it now.

Hannibal smiled at the push when he landed on the bed and pushed himself up with one arm to kiss Will immediately, the other hand wandering over the muscles of Will’s graceful back.

Will grasped Hannibal’s cock and stroked him with deft fingers, calloused palm working him over with assertive flicks of his wrist. He tongue delved deep into Hannibal’s mouth, groaning.

The way Will grasped and handled his cock now was not at all like a novice, it was with the air of a man who knew exactly what it was he wanted. Hannibal’s body arched like a bowstring at the touch, and he sucked at Will’s tongue while his palm ran down to Will’s ass, over the smooth, perfect skin over round muscle.

“Hannibal…” he managed, reaching haphazardly for the drawer with the lube in it, coating Hannibal’s cock with it as he worked him up.

Hannibal’s nails scratched long, pink lines in Will’s ass as he clutched. He bit at Will’s lower lip, moaning his name as he realized what Will wanted. “Do you want to ride me, Will?”

Having never done it, Will nodded his head, up for something new, and after the night before, he was sure it wouldn’t be awful. “Yes-”

Hannibal took the bottle from his eager husband and slicked his fingers with it. “I’ll have to prepare you first, you couldn’t handle taking all of me at once,” he whispered in Will’s ear.

“I wasn’t planning to try,” Will whispered, arching his ass back against Hannibal’s hand.

Hannibal stroked his wet fingertip around the outside of Will’s pucker once, then slid it in, slowly. “I do love to watch your face, Will,” he whispered, honestly.

Will flushed from that and shook his head once as he continued to work Hannibal up, but his own body was now being stretched, prepped for Hannibal’s girth. “That’s what you do best…”

“Watch you?” Hannibal asked as he twisted and bent his finger inside Will while he rocked it in and out, slowly at first, teasing his prostate a little.

“Yeah. I’ve always noticed.” Will bore own on Hannibal’s finger, breathing coming a little more raggedly.

Hannibal added his second finger and leaned up to bite at Will’s lips while he let Will’s body stretch and flex around his digits. “You’ve always had my attention…”

“Even more so now,” Will grunted, one hand on Hannibal’s shoulders as he pressed down into his fingers, fist gripping him tightly.

Hannibal’s cock throbbed in Will’s grip, and he began to spread and bend his fingers inside Will, not quite as gentle as he was the first time. “Even more so, now,” Hannibal agreed, and pulled his fingers out, slowly, then guided Will over his wet, waiting cock.

Letting go, Will beared down on Hannibal, breathing out as the bulbous head slipped past the first rung of muscle and then slid in a little easier. Will shivered, hands-on Hannibal’s chest, pivoting his hips just a little.

Hannibal’s jaw dropped when Will sank over him. He made an almost helpless groaning noise and then clutched Will’s hips to guide him down. His fingers pressed so hard into Will’s flesh that they would leave bruises for a day.

Will enjoyed being in control, but he’d also enjoyed having Hannibal pressed in balls deep inside of him, too. He rutted down and then up, picking up a smooth pace, leveraging himself with his hands and fingers splayed over Hannibal’s furry chest.

“Will-” Hannibal gasped, sinking all the way inside Will. He held Will there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being completely and utterly joined.

Kissing Hannibal once, Will rolled his hips, flushing hot as Hannibal’s cock tapped once against his prostate. “Hannibal-” Their eyes met and never left each other.

“Is this what you wanted, Will?” Hannibal asked as he raked his hands down Will’s flexing thighs, scratching lightly before he gripped Will’s cock with one hand, to give him the sensation of fucking, and being fucked at the same time.

Will’s head hung forward, curls in his eyes, head nodding once. “Y-yes…”

Hannibal’s free hand moved up to clutch in Will’s hair, petting and twisting gently at the same time as he rolled his hips, thrusting into Will as Will sank down, around him. “I could watch you ride me, forever.”

Chuckling between huffed breaths, Will ground down harder with one pass, heat spiking through him, pouring and melting into his core, building. “I’d… probably keep doing this then.”

“Keep fucking yourself on me, Will?” Hannibal asked as he tugged on Will’s cock, twisting his hand around it.

“If it feels like this every time?” Will shrugged his shoulders and rolled them back, gasping with each tug and pass, sweat forming a thin sheen on his skin.

“And more,” Hannibal promised, then gave Will’s ass a gentle, playful slap for the shrug of his shoulders.

Will groaned, writhing and clenching around Hannibal as heat spiked through his veins and spine. “Then maybe.”

Hannibal slapped Will’s ass again, with a smirk, more sharply, able to tell that he was getting closer. His hips pistoned up, quickly, driving his cock into Will harder now, pushing him to the edge. “Maybe?”

A sharp moan escaped Will with that and he ground down hard on Hannibal, taking it all the way in with a dropped jaw. “Definitely.”

“That’s better,” Hannibal purred and scratched his smooth nails over Will’s slapped ass as he stroked him, then rolled Will over suddenly, and pinned his legs to his chest.

“Oh-” Will gasped out, eyes wide as he gazed up at Hannibal, chest heaving against his legs.

Hannibal stared into Will’s eyes as he started to hammer into him, hips crashing against Will’s ass as the bed rocked against the wall. “There-”

At this pace and in that angle, Will knew he was done for. His eyes rolled back a moment as his body writhed and seized on him, tensing as the waves of pleasure began to boil in his loins. “Hannibal-”

Hannibal draped Will’s legs over his own shoulders, and turned his head, breathing hard against the inside of Will’s pale leg before he bit the tender flesh there as he fucked Will hard enough to make the bed sound like it was going to fall apart.

Will’s jaw dropped with that, unable to do much more than groan, panting and chest heaving with every last pass until he was coming apart at the seams, toes curling in the air, clenching down around Hannibal.

“Will,” Hannibal whispered, against Will’s leg, and then clamped his teeth down on Will’s knee. He drew blood, just enough to swirl around his teeth as he came inside Will. Hannibal’s long, lean body flexed and tensed in waves until finally, his teeth released, and he looked down at Will again, licking his lips breathlessly.

Leg throbbing from the bite, Will hardly minded as his body seemed to float in the moment, pulsing with Hannibal’s, until they both began to slow and stop. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal laid over Will, slowly, and kissed Will, sharing the taste of his blood between their lips as they caught their breath.

After a good five minutes, Will finally, broke their silence, nuzzling against Hannibal’s jaw. “I love you.”

Hannibal smiled and looked at Will as he let Will’s legs relax, back down to the bed. “I love you, Will. Always.”


	8. Chapter 8

Will packed the truck full of things they would need. It was just a vacation to start, so it was sleeping bags and overnight things, not a lot, but anything to give the impression they were going to be gone for a bit.

Bob wandered over from the house next to theirs, headed to the mailboxes on the corner to pick up his mail. He nodded at Will. “Thanks for the work, the truck is fine now. Going away for a bit?” he asked, curiously.

Looking up from the bed of the truck where he was stuffing a cooler, Will nodded. “Yeah. We’re going to the Island for a bit. Get away from here and get our heads back on, you know?”

“Nice. Ever been?” Bob asked, and looked over at the little stone house where Winston and the others watched Will load the truck from the window closest, all of their faces pressed close to the glass.

“I can’t say I have. I hear it’s beautiful though,” Will answered, looking where Bob did and sighed. “Unexpected surprises might have something to do with it.”

“Yeah, how’d you get all of those dogs? Barb said something about some lady … I wasn’t listening,” Bob laughed, looking at the dogs.

“My… ex brought them. She was tired of raising them and dealing with them on her own, so she dropped them off,” Will explained, shutting up the truck’s bed for now, sure that there were enough beds and blankets down for most of the dogs.

“Wow,” Bob said, and was silent a moment. “They seem like nice dogs. How long are you going to be gone?”

Will laughed. “I have no idea. Few weeks maybe.”

“It’s a nice place, good fishing off the coast. I was there for a bit before I got married, anyway, should get the mail. See ya around,” he said with a nod and let himself go off to the mailboxes now that he had an explanation for the dogs and the woman that would get his wife off his back about it.

Will sighed, and waved Bob off. He then went back into the house to get the rest of their stuff ready to go. “Hannibal?” Hannibal descended the stairs, with two bags, one in hand, one over his shoulder. The dogs swarmed around Will, except for Poptart, who trailed behind Hannibal on the stairs, his homely white shadow. “Is it time to load the zoo for transport, already?”

“Whenever you’re ready. I’ve got everything else packed. We can get the rest when we get there,” Will explained, going to help Hannibal with one of the bags.

“I’m ready,” Hannibal said and gave Will one bag while he pulled a long coat on. “Did you speak with our neighbor?”

“Yeah, Bob’s wife was nosey. Told him it was an ex and she didn’t want the dogs.” Will took the bag to the door and let the dogs out to get into the truck as he put the last of everything in.

Hannibal shifted his jaw and arched one eyebrow as he buttoned his jacket at the mention of the woman from the party. “I’m almost certain you’ll be subject to a new round of her attention now that she knows for a fact you have a female former lover.”

“Good thing we’re leaving,” Will sighed, helping the older dogs into the back and gave his husband a look. “I mean we’re leaving for good soon anyway.”

“You’re certain he would miss her?” Hannibal asked, as he set Poptart onto the middle of the front seat, on a folded blanket, and climbed in after her.

“Probably not,” Will offered with a laugh. “She wouldn’t miss him either.” Will went and locked up the house, set the alarm, and then got into the truck. It was tight but it worked.

“It’s not him in need of being put to better use,” Hannibal muttered, as he spied the woman’s face in her window, watching them as they pulled away. Hannibal waved at her, and she vanished.

“She doesn’t like you.” Will laughed, good-natured, and touched Hannibal’s thigh.

“Of course not. She imagines I am her competition,” Hannibal said, plainly, and laid his hand over Will’s, smiling a little.

“Imagines is the keyword.” Will laced their fingers together.

“I can hardly blame her,” Hannibal said with a smile as they drove through the sea-side neighborhood, toward the highway that would take them to the ferry terminal. “Your affections were elsewhere when we met…”

“Hm?” Will asked, looking at Hannibal for a second.

“You don’t remember?” Hannibal asked, amused.

“I remember not really being interested in anyone when we met,” Will answered with another look as they arrived at the ferry. “You mean Alana, but that didn’t really happen until my mind was already on fire.”

“I recall the evening very well when you burst into my house and told me you kissed her,” Hannibal sighed. “While I made you dessert.”

“You were making dessert for someone else who had left,” Will insisted, with another look and waited for their turn to pull in and park. “I… kissed Alana for grounding. I was felt I was going crazy, and she knew that. It was never going to work.”

“You said you’d always found her very kissable,” Hannibal reminded Will, and for a moment, smelled freshly shaved chocolate.

“Maybe I did. But so did you,” Will pointed out and finally drove in, going where the attendant directed them.

Hannibal laughed at that and reached over to pet Xena, who had crawled up, onto the front seat to sit on his lap. “It was a way to feel closer to you.”

“More like a way to make me angry,” Will said with a shifting jaw. He parked and then stepped out.

Hannibal watched Will where they had parked on the enormous ferry, in a windowless parkade in the lower level of the ship. He set Xena aside and stepped out to join Will, standing with him. “You are remarkable when you’re angry,” Hannibal said, softly, as he stood next to his husband while other vehicles moved in around them, taking up their parking spots.

Will leashed the dogs one-by-one and handed Hannibal various leashes. “I’m sure that’s the only reason you kissed her and slept with her.” Will rolled his eyes. And Hannibal wondered why he moved on to Molly.

“If I had wanted to do that for any other reason, wouldn’t I have managed that long before you and I met?” Hannibal asked as he took half of the leashes, and headed to the staircase that led to the upper decks.

Following, Will sighed. “Takes a sick and not so innocent friend to bring people together.”

Hannibal stepped out of the wide door at the top of the staircase, and into a glassed-in, large room with bench seats everywhere and a small coffee kiosk in the corner. He proceeded out onto the upper deck with the dogs and held the door for Will.

“I think we’re all happier, now,” Hannibal said.

“We are.” Will walked past Hannibal and onto the deck, Xena barking once, which he hushed her for, waiting for Hannibal.

Hannibal followed, and they strolled together, on the deck with a cool ocean breeze blowing around them. “We may very well see whales on the way over to the island, another creature who prefers to travel in families.”

“Are you comparing us to whales?” Will asked brow raised back at Hannibal, amused.

“It’s my way of reminding you that we are a family now, our stings and blows are in the past,” Hannibal said, and leaned closer to kiss Will over the hoard of dogs that sniffed at the ocean air around them.

Will wrapped his arm around Hannibal’s shoulders, sighing deeply, and then kissed him back. “Remind me some more.”

Hannibal smiled and leaned in closer to kiss Will on the lips, deeply as the breeze whipped around them both, and the low, loud horn of the ferry sounded before the massive ship began to move. He even bent Will back in his arms, just a little, dramatically.

Grasping Hannibal’s shoulder, Will hummed against his mouth, tongues sliding together once as their lips sealed together in a deep, passionate kiss.

Hannibal righted them again as the dogs pulled at their leashes, impatient with their kissing masters. He pulled back and looked at Will, smiling. “We have never actually been married, Will. I’ve had the strange experience of wearing a wedding ring without a ceremony.”

“A shame no one’s asked you to marry them,” Will answered, coy, and batted his long lashes at Hannibal with a wisp of a smile.

Hannibal blinked at Will, with an arch of his eyebrow, and looked ahead with a little smile as they walked on with the dogs. “A shame indeed, I imagine I would say yes, if someone did.”

Will slipped his fingers between Hannibal’s, their palms resting together easily. “You’d have no regrets now?”

“Only that it could not have happened sooner,” Hannibal said, honestly, as the sea breeze blew greying strands of hair into his eyes. They left the shore behind, at a steady rate, and soon were surrounded by the Pacific ocean as far as their eyes could see.

Will paused to gaze out at the ocean, one hand on Hannibal’s back, the other holding the leashes of the dogs to make sure they stopped, too. He turned to Hannibal. “Then will you?”

Hannibal swallowed and felt chills spread over his entire body when Will asked. “Marry you?”

“Yes. Will you marry me?” Will asked, directly, gazing into Hannibal’s eyes.

If his heart could stop in his chest for a moment, freeze as it expanded and filled the chambers with blood, holding everything possible for a moment, Hannibal was certain that it did, now. The usually eloquent doctor seemed frozen before he reached a shaky hand to Will, and clutched his jacket where it lay just over Will’s tapered waist.

“Yes,” he agreed, part of him wondering if Will was mocking him, on some level.

Mockery, though tempting as it was, didn’t belong in this moment for Will, not when they’d just started to really understand one another again. Will leaned in and kissed Hannibal on the mouth, not worried about people around them. “Then I suggest we find someone to do that for us.”

Hannibal swallowed hard, and kissed Will back, shaking a little before he deepened the kiss after Will spoke again. Everything was trapped in his throat, in a hard knot, and speech was impossible, eyes wet.

Will squeezed his arm around Hannibal and rested their head together, the boat rocking slightly in the water. “I love you, and I meant it when I asked.”

Hannibal laughed softly that Will had been able to read his mind. Of course he had. “In that case, I meant it when I accepted,” Hannibal managed, and kissed Will again with an easier sort of joy racing through his veins.

Hannibal apprehension had been enough, and Will felt it like a pang in his own chest.

“Good. There’s nothing I’d rather do with you than marry you, and celebrate it the right way.”

Hannibal hugged Will, tightly, and kissed his lips again. “And what, pray tell, is your idea of the right way, Will?” Hannibal asked with a smile.

“A ceremony for one. Lots of consummation,” Will replied with another coy smirk against Hannibal’s lips.

“The island is a beautiful place, apparently very popular for weddings no matter what the season,” Hannibal said with a smile, then looked back with a frown at Buster, who barked at them to keep moving so that they could walk.

They started to walk again, this time Will offered his arm to Hannibal. “We could do that. We’ll need some sort of papers made though right?”

“Chiyoh is adept in that regard. I’m certain we could have something couriered to us, in a matter of days,” Hannibal mused. “We are here for two weeks, after all.”

“True. You’ve kept in touch?” Will asked, having not asked about her or where she had gone since they settled.

“We have, at a distance,” Hannibal assured Will. “She wanted assurance that you hadn’t killed me with your care,” Hannibal chuckled, as he took Will’s arm, and felt himself blush just a little.

Even the darkest rooms and corners of his mind palace were brighter today.

“Is she glad to know you’re still alive?” Will chuckled, eyes crinkling at the edges when he did.

“She was greatly relieved,” Hannibal said, and admired his fiance. Hannibal’s regal face was full of color today, his eyes sparkling and the color of cinnamon in the sun. He’d never been happier.

“I’m sure she was,” Will shook his head and patted Hannibal’s hand on his arm as they walked. He felt lighter now, like a weight was lifted.

“She did relay to me, in her most recent letter, that you were intensely involved in my care,” Hannibal said with a smile at Will. “You slept next to my bed, often, in a chair.”

“I did,” Will didn’t discredit himself there. “How much more did she tell you, that you asked me again?”

Hannibal smiled at Will, and held his arm a little more tightly as they circled the bow of the ship, together. “You were badly injured, yourself, and neglected your own injuries to fuss over whether or not I was comfortable. We nearly ran out of pain medication, at one point. You refused to take your own doses so that I could have them all.” Hannibal took a deep breath at that. “Granted, that may have been to keep me from conversing with you.”

“My own pain wasn’t an issue,” Will whispered with a shrug, looking out over the water. “One of us had to be coherent.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of these details, Will?” Hannibal asked as he studied Will’s elegant profile against the backdrop of the Pacific. He’d hovered over two oceans with Will, now. They were married in spirit in the Atlantic, and Hannibal knew they would become married in the eyes of society near the Pacific.

“I didn’t think it was important until now,” Will shrugged once more, looking back at Hannibal.

“I cannot imagine anything more important than the knowledge that you sacrificed for months to keep me with you,” Hannibal said, seriously.

“At the time, it wasn’t important,” Will sighed, patting Hannibal’s hand again. “It is now, but it wasn’t then.”

“Is there anything else that you’re keeping from me, Will?” Hannibal asked, with an arched brow at his husband-to-be. “Anything that I might find fascinating and you have dismissed as mundane?”

“No…” Will leaned and kissed Hannibal. “Depends I guess on what you deem important.”

“Any circumstance in which you behaved in a loving or sacrificial manner toward me without my knowledge,” Hannibal said, with smiling precision.

Will laughed, the wind sweeping his hair over his eyes. “Any time I did, I purposefully did so in hopes you’d never find out.”

“I’d like to know,” Hannibal insisted. “Even only one example, for now, Will,” Hannibal said, with a tilt of his head. He knew angling his head in just that way accentuated his deep brown eyes, and cheekbones.

“I think Chiyoh has ratted me out on most of them,” Will commented with a look at Hannibal as he did his best to convince Will like that. Will couldn’t help but smile a little brighter, lighting his eyes. “Anytime you got sick, I didn’t actually buy the soup from the store. I made it. Does that count?”

Hannibal stopped walking when Will told him that, and he smiled so widely that his crooked teeth showed. He nearly never smiled like that. “Yes, Will. That certainly counts,” Hannibal said, and stepped forward to kiss Will on the lips, again as he pulled him against his own chest with one arm.

“You’re sure?” Will asked against Hannibal’s lips, eyes half closed as he savored their moment. Will might have felt regretful at the start, but his care and love for Hannibal never dissipated.

“Quite sure,” Hannibal whispered, as the dogs pulled at them to stop kissing, and keep walking them around the ship.

Will laughed, taking Hannibal’s hand, reigning the dogs back in a little as they walked. “Glad not to disappoint.”

“You rarely do,” Hannibal assured Will. Many laps around the ship, and a few coffees later, the ferry docked at the island. Once in the truck, Will and Hannibal were given the green light to drive through the other side of the ship once it opened, and onto the road beyond, surrounded on every side by intensely green foliage.

On the road, Will watched their surroundings carefully, letting Hannibal give him direction to their destination. “This is nice.”

The roads were bounded by deep, dense forest full of white pine and spruce trees that grew nearly up to the highway. Where there were gaps in the forest, marinas were visible, full of boats and yacht retailers. Small coffee shops, painted bright colors dotted the road, welcome places to stop and grab a bite to eat for the travel weary.

“I thought you might think so. This is the most densely populated region of the island. We’ll have to pass through the main city, Victoria, to reach the northern road that will lead us up, along the western coast to our destination. The trip will take just under five hours without interruption, but I’m certain we’ll stop to allow the dogs to stretch their legs.”

Will raised his brows at Hannibal. “We will have to feed them.” Will kept his eyes on the road, but chanced a few looks at Hannibal. “We might need food too.” “There will be no shortage of opportunities for both,” Hannibal said, as they came closer to the city. Forest gave way to more shops, and increasingly taller buildings as they proceeded south.

“Let me know where to pull off,” Will said, looking around as the dogs paced and whined in the back.

“There should be parks in the city itself,” Hannibal said with a look back at the dogs. “The first one you see, we’ll take them out there.”

“Alright.” Will kept driving until they came across a little park meant for dogs, and took the exit there and parked.

By that time, Xena had peed in the back seat of the truck, and the other dogs had stepped through it, tracking it all over. Hannibal opened the back door once they’d stopped, and sighed at the mess. “Perhaps we should purchase a new vehicle.”

“Because of pee?” Will raised his brows and sorted through a bag which he brought some cleaner and took the towels he’d laid down out once the dogs were out. He sprayed the truck bed down and wiped it out.

“For the sake of anonymity, as well,” Hannibal reasoned, with all of the dogs leashes in hand. They tried to pull him into the park, eager to get grass under their paws after the long trip on the ferry, but he stood steadfastly, waiting for Will.

Will sighed and went with them, he’d clean it up later. “You aren’t throwing my truck out just because you can.”

“Dare I ask how many times your truck has been urinated in, Will?” Hannibal asked, cautiously, as he let the dogs walk briskly with him. His long legs were able to let even the larger dogs get some of their pent up energy out.

“This one? None. Considering we just got the dogs,” Will said with a smile. “I had a truck years ago, that one got peed in all the time.”

Hannibal just sighed, and gave his husband a bemused look. “Charming.”

They let the dogs do what they needed and Will cleaned up after a few of them, not phased by any of it. “It’s part of pets and kids.”

“Do they make diapers for puppies?” Hannibal asked, with genuine interest as Xena stopped to poop.

“Yes, but she doesn’t need one,” Will insisted, giving Hannibal a look and baggy to clean up the poop with.

Hannibal took the baggie and looked at it. “What is this for?”

“You pick up the poop with it,” Will explained, motioning to the garbage can for it nearby. “It’s rude to leave it for someone else to walk in.”

“ _We_ pick up the feces?” Hannibal asked, incredulously. Once again, he wondered if Will was mocking him.

“Yeah. That is what you do so that there is not dog shit everywhere. If no one picked it up? We’d live in piles of it, Hannibal,” Will said, showing Hannibal how to put the bag over his hand to pick it up.

“I had assumed, of course, that someone is hired to perform the task,” Hannibal said, and put the bag over his hand, then picked up the droppings and tied the bag firmly before he took it to the nearest bin to dispose of.

“Do you see anyone? It’s a community act to try and keep things clean. Your pet, your responsibility,” Will explained.

“Very well. It’s different in Europe,” Hannibal said with an elegant shrug, and whistled at Buster, who was trying to bite through his leash.

“We aren’t in Europe,” Will chuckled, getting Buster and picking him up. “Stop that.” Buster was an old dog by now, but just as feisty and spry as ever. “He’s like you, Will. He resents being kept on a tether.”

“How is that?” Will asked, holding Buster as he pulled the leash from his teeth. “Stop.”

“You eventually tired of the leash of Jack Crawford’s handling, and freed yourself,” Hannibal said, and picked Poptart up with one hand, to stop her from lagging behind.

“That’s… true.”

They finished walking the dogs and Will walked back to the truck to clean it out, and then set out water and food for the dogs, first.

“I could have told Jack not to attempt to make a wolf walk on a lead, but … I wanted to get to know you.”

“Would you have?” Will laughed and then threw the towels into the garbage.

“If I had not found you interesting, yes,” Hannibal confessed, and helped Xena into the truck, then carried Poptart to the front seat where the old girl had a folded blanket waiting for her sore body.

“What really attracted you to me?” Will got in and looked at Hannibal as he started the truck up.

“It was a toss up,” Hannibal explained. “I was captured by the fantastic, fluttery length and curl of your dark eyelashes above those oceanic irises of yours, and the sheer, unmitigated gall with which you told me precisely what I could do with my opinion,” Hannibal laughed. “I knew within seconds of meeting you that: you were as intelligent as I was, that you did not want anyone to know how dangerously intelligent you really were, and that like any large predator, you knew your own kind and reacted in a territorial manner. I also noticed that you were the most ravishing man I had ever laid eyes on. I had to know you better, Will. You captured my heart at once.”

“Really?” Will gave Hannibal a side long look at a light before gassing it once more. “I wanted to punch you on first meeting.”

“I’m fairly certain that if Jack had not been present, you would have grabbed the collar of my coat and threatened me,” Hannibal agreed, fondly. “What I noticed in those first moments of interaction with you was that you resented my ability to see you clearly. You were not used to being unable to manipulate a first impression, and that disturbed you so much that you stormed off.”

Will looked for a spot to fill up and gave Hannibal a look. “It’s weird being understood on first glance when everyone your whole life has misunderstood you.”

“It’s gratifying to know I was capable of shocking you,” Hannibal teased. “These days, you are typically the one surprising me.”

“Once upon a time,” Will said and took the turn off for the gas station so they could fill up.

Hannibal looked outside at the gas station, surprised to find even the gas stations were charming on the island. “Do you miss life when I was less predictable, Will?”

“I prefer knowing exactly what you’re thinking and doing,” Will said, honestly. “I don’t live being a step behind you when I can be right beside you.”

Hannibal leaned closer, over Poptart’s head, and kissed Will’s cheek, then the corner of his lips. “I prefer you beside me, as well.”

“I don’t like not being on your side of the veil,” Will admitted, turning his head to kiss Hannibal properly before slipping out to get the gas.

Hannibal smiled to himself as he watched Will, and then allowed Xena to crawl up front and sit on his lap as Will filled up their truck. Xena wagged at Will, and the truck nearly lurched to the passenger’s side as all of the dogs pressed their noses to the windows, watching Will as they wagged.

Will laughed and went to pay, and then came back, petting each dog from the back of the truck and then got back inside. He gave Xena a pet, and then kissed Hannibal’s sharp cheekbone. “You’ve made a friend.”

“I was an appropriate vantage point from which to watch you,” Hannibal said, but his hands were both occupied, one with petting the puppy, the other with Poptart’s coarse fur.

“I’m sure you all enjoyed watching me,” Will said with a smirk and started the truck up once more, and drove off toward their destination.

“If you are not willing to be rid of your beloved truck to keep our identities a secret, what might you think of something like what that gentleman has?” Hannibal asked, nodding at a much nicer, large SUV with lots of room in the back. “It would be better for the dogs.”

Brows furrowed a little, Will watched the SUV for a moment. “It’s not that I won’t give up my truck, it’s that you said it was for the pee. We can get something else.”

“I think that would be best, particularly for the winter months,” Hannibal said, as they started up and headed to the highway again.

“When did you want to do that? After we’ve moved?” Will asked, making talk while they drove, keep himself awake.

“While we’re here, I think. We can leave it at the ferry and take it when we dock here, for good. It’s best no one back on the mainland sees us driving it. The less links between our lives in White Rock and our lives on the Island, the better.” Hannibal tilted his head, watching Will’s eyes. Will was blinking more and more slowly. “Are you tired, Will? I’m perfectly capable of operating your truck.”

“That’s true,” Will agreed, and gave Hannibal a look, but nodded. “When we stop for food.”

“Alright,” Hannibal said, and reached over to put his hand against the back of Will’s neck, gently. “You’ve always required more sleep than I do.”

“Some of us can’t run on just a few hours of sleep.” Will sighed at the touch, rolling his head on his neck. The droning of the truck and the panting breaths of the dogs were making it harder to focus on much else.

“Pull over, Will,” Hannibal murmured. “I’ve memorized our route. You need to sleep.”

Really, Will just needed some coffee, but Hannibal was right until they could do that. He pulled off to the side and got out, walking around so Hannibal could switch spots with him.

Hannibal brushed his hand against Will’s waist as he passed Will, and climbed in the driver’s side, then smirked as he put the seat back. He removed his coat, and folded it into a pillow to hand to his husband. “We’ll be ready for lunch before you know it, and likely near the rainforest.”

Will rolled his eyes at the little things Hannibal found amusing. He tucked the jacket against the window and leaned into it. “Wake me when we get there, please.”

“Of course,” Hannibal promised. Xena crawled onto Will’s lap, where the sun shone onto the legs of his trousers, and snuggled up against him with her round head against his stomach. She fell asleep quickly as Hannibal began to drive the rumbling truck down the highway once more.

Will slept hard, snuggling the puppy against him. He had dreamless sleep though, not out long enough to not warrant one.

The truck lumbered to a stop, and fresh, soft air that smelled like trees and salt reached Will as Hannibal exited the vehicle. He whispered to the dogs in the back, and the truck bed lifted when all of the dogs jumped out. They’d stopped at a meadow, a clearing in what looked like a prehistoric forest. A small, babbling, blue-green stream cut through it, over black rocks. It was idyllic, almost surreal.

Will woke with a start and slid out, stretching high above his head, shirt riding up a little past his hip. “Where are we?” he asked.

“At approximately the halfway point on our journey,” Hannibal said over his shoulder, looking twice at the exposed sliver of Will’s skin. “On the East coast of the island.”

“Oh.” Will took a deep, deep breath of the fresh air, watching the dogs run around and get their pees out of the way.

Hannibal had Buster and Xena on their leashes, not sure he could trust either of them to come back when he called, but once Will was up, he unclasped Buster’s leash and let the old Jack Russel run over to Will. The other dogs were at the stream, sniffing around, splashing in the water. “How did you sleep?”

“Okay.” Will rubbed his eyes and walked Buster to the stream himself, yawning, and wiping his face with one palm.

“It’s nearly time for dinner,” Hannibal noted, as he looked up at the sky, which was in the slow process of fading from blue to a warm golden-pink at the edges of the few clouds present.

“We’ve not eaten since this morning,” Will pointed out, wondering if they underestimated their journey.

“There is a city just ahead, I’m sure we can find something there. This may be a nice place to feed the dogs, however. They can nap while we eat in a restaurant,” Hannibal said, and looked to his left, toward the ocean as the wind picked up.

“Look at you being a responsible dog owner,” Will teased, and set out a few bowls for the dogs and put their prepared food into each one.

Hannibal gave his husband a look, but smiled when Winston came to sit next to him. “An old dog can learn new tricks after all.”

“Apparently so.” Will gave each dog a scratch behind their ears and then sat in the bed of the truck for a moment, enjoying their views.

Hannibal walked Xena around, and let her sniff at moss at the edge of the clearing when his head turned, and he went very still.

“Will, call everyone back to the truck.”

Brows furrowed in, Will called the dogs in and got them all into the truck quickly, gathering empty bowels and tossing them in, not wasting any time. He scooped Xena and Poptart up and placed them in the front, and then stood very still next to Hannibal, bending down slowly for the knife in his boot.

Hannibal remained where he was, and stared calmly into the darkness of the woods as a large, sleek cougar stepped out of the trees to approach the stream. He stared at Hannibal, deeply aware that Hannibal and Will had deprived him of his meal.

Not what Will had expected, and his knife would surely not do them much good now. “Shoulda brought a shotgun,” he murmured.

“Do we have meat in the truck?” Hannibal asked, calmly, and admired the cougar as it padded toward him very slowly.

“What’s left of the dogs’ meals,” Will answered, never taking his eyes off the creature.

“I don’t think that will hold him. We’ll back toward the truck, and hope for the best. I’d prefer not to kill him, he’s magnificent.”

“Us or him.” Will slowly walked back to the truck to get into the passenger side, making sure all the windows were up as he did.

Hannibal walked backwards, slowly, stalked by the cougar. Two smaller golden shapes followed, and Hannibal laughed, admiring them as well before he climbed into the truck and shut the door.

“He is a she, and she has cubs,” he said, pointing at the little ones with a smile, as though they were at the zoo.

Buster spotted them, finally, and lunged at the window, barking.

Will grabbed Buster and held him to his chest, quieting him. “Shh.” He shook his head. “Best to get out of here now before we become a family meal.”

Hannibal nodded as the other dogs began to bark with Buster. He drove off slowly, and the mother cougar chased the truck a little. “Two families colliding,” Hannibal chuckled, watching her in the mirror.

Will watched behind them, trying to quiet the dogs as he did. “The harder we are to catch, the more likely she is to give up.” Hopefully.

The cougar did not chase them far before she doubled back to find her cubs, again. “I wish we had something substantial to leave for her.”

“Dog food is not that,” Will commented, turning to face the road, the night sky darkening even more as they drove. “And I’m not cutting off anything either.”

“If only we had a body in our trunk,” Hannibal said, with a laugh.

“Who would have predicted?” Will shrugged, amused. “Maybe on our way back.”

“One can only hope,” Hannibal chuckled, and took Will’s hand. “Are you sufficiently awake now?”

“Yup,” Will said, squeezing Hannibal’s hand. “Nothing like a good cougar to wake you up.”

“I understand they are common on the island,” Hannibal said, as they drove on, night falling around them.

“We’ll just need to be ready and watch the dogs carefully,” Will insisted with a shrug. What else could they do. “We should get another gun.”

“A very good idea. You’ll have to teach me to shoot,” Hannibal said, as he drove around the corner.

“I can,” Will said, looking at Hannibal. “You don’t know how?”

“I have never had the need for a gun,” Hannibal admitted, openly. “I prefer to work with my hands.”

“I know that,” Will sighed, looking at his husband-to-be. “I just assumed you knew how to use one.”

“Not at all,” Hannibal laughed. “Though I am sure I will catch on quickly.”

“You will.” Will laughed, shaking his head. He’d teach Hannibal anything he wanted to know, and with cougars out here, it was better to be armed.

“What is so funny?” Hannibal asked, with a raise of his eyebrow.

“I just… thought you knew. I don’t know why.” Will touched Hannibal’s arm, reassuringly.

“I kill with my hands,” Hannibal shrugged, and straightened, then smoothed down his hair with one hand, like a cat that had stumbled, and had to groom himself to regain his composure.

“I know, I get that. I just thought maybe you’d learned at some point, for hunting, not murder,” Will stated with a shrug. “I’ll teach you, either way.”

“I’ve never hunted animals,” Hannibal said. “But thank you, Will.”

“Are you upset? I wasn’t laughing at you, I was laughing that I thought it at all. I shouldn’t have assumed.” Will clasped his hands together between his thighs, looking out the window at the darkening sky.

“I’m not upset,” Hannibal assured Will, and paused. “I don’t believe I can recall the last time I had to learn a skill in front of another, from the very beginning. Medical school, perhaps.”

Will wasn’t sure, Hannibal could sometimes be a little tricky to read, even for him. “It’ll be interesting.”

Hannibal stole a look at Will as he drove. “Do you look forward to the opportunity to instruct me?”

“A little. I never thought I’d be the one to teach you anything.” Will leaned in on the door and watched Hannibal instead.

“I doubt I’ll ever take up fishing, I can see why you may have made the assumption,” Hannibal said, with a little smirk.

“You might take it up if I suddenly couldn’t fish for us and it’s all we had to eat.” Will grinned over at Hannibal, folding his arms over his chest.

“Nonsense, there are rude people on the island, I’m sure,” Hannibal teased back.

“Oh, so I can’t fish or hunt, so we go back to eating people.” Will chuckled, shaking his head. Xena crawled over to sit on his lap and snuggled there, whining a little.

“You seemed to enjoy it,” Hannibal said. A wicked smile crept over his features at the memory of sharing meals with Will. It was very different to consume the rude with a guest who dined with the full knowledge of what they were eating, someone who chose what Hannibal chose. It had been a beautiful memory.

“Admittedly it didn’t bother me as much as it should have,” Will agreed with a smile of his own creeping over his features in the light of the bright moon coming out over them, shining down through the window.

“We are not made of different stuff than animals,” Hannibal said, philosophically. “It is only the ability to reason, to behave with grace that elevates us above them.”

“So just treat all people like animals?” Will looked at Hannibal, amused. He knew the answer of course.

“Not at all. Those who behave like animals become animals. You would never eat one of your dogs, I assume?” Hannibal pointed out.

“No.” Will scoffed at the idea, giving Hannibal a look as he pet Xena’s fluffy, soft ears.

“Precisely, and yet, you would not think twice about consuming pork, or beef,” Hannibal pointed out. “Differences in muscle and bone between a dog and a pig are negligible, what designates one species as food and another as beloved companion lies in their behavior.”

“There are people who do eat dog and cats,” Will pointed out, just for fun. “But I see your point.”

“I thought you would,” Hannibal said, as they drove over the crest of a hill. Below, lay the lights of a small city, amber and yellow in the darkness. “Hungry, Will?”

“I am starved.” Will let out a sigh, his stomach rumbling at him lightly. It’d been a while and the cougar had been an unwelcome distraction for only a bit.

“I’m sure we can find something here,” Hannibal said, as he headed down the hill, toward the city that shimmered on the shore. “Not to mention, we have to feed the dogs.”

“Yes. At least we didn’t give their food to the cougar.” Will would remember on returning that they would need to be better prepared.

Hannibal chuckled, and looked back at the troublesome Jack Russell who watched the world speed by from the back of the truck. “I think Buster may have attacked the cougar if we had tried.”

“He probably would have. He tried to attack Tier,” Will pointed out, remembering how hurt the little dog had gotten once, though not terrible, it had torn Will up.

“Did he?” Hannibal asked, impressed. They slowed once within the city limits, and Hannibal headed to the core of the city to find a place to stop and eat.

“He ran out after him while he was lurking around the forest in the yard,” Will explained, watching the dim lit roads.

“And the others remained behind?” Hannibal asked, as he watched Buster in the rear view window.

“Buster was the only with the balls to do it,” Will chuckled and reached behind him to pet Buster’s head.

“I assumed you had all of your strays neutered,” Hannibal quipped, and pulled over in front of a restaurant that looked to be at least mediocre, but still seemed their best option at the moment.

“Figure of speech, Hannibal,” Will said with another look, getting out of the truck, and went to the back of the truck to set out bowls of food.

Hannibal followed Will slowly, stretching a little as he walked, and observed their surroundings. The city seemed quiet and picturesque, lit with old fashioned street lamps that colored the streets a soft amber against the intense, dark blue of the skies. “I’m familiar with the turn of phrase.”

“Mhm.” Will set everything in the back of the truck and locked the dogs in, with cracked windows, though it was getting cold. They wouldn’t be too long.

The dogs crowded around their dishes, wagging, and ate in a happy, harmonious pack. Xena stood under and between Winston’s front legs, who seemed to make sure the puppy got her share of food under his supervision. “Shall we?”

“Yes.” Will gave them all one last pet and then took Hannibal’s hand. At this point, he’d eat anything.

Hannibal felt another, subtle rush of happiness as their hands joined, fingers lacing together, and they climbed a few stairs, then entered the restaurant. They were seated quickly. It was hardly up to Hannibal’s usual standards, but he was happy to see that they used crisp, white tablecloths, and every table was lit with a real candle. They sat down, and were offered menus. Hannibal looked over his, quickly. “If I spotted a battery operated candle, I was prepared to leave.”

Will laughed out loud, his shin touching Hannibal’s under the table, keeping contact. “Over a candle? I might have fought you on that.” Will opened the menu and looked over everything. “BLT sounds great.”

“Battery operated candles on a dining table are an affront to good taste,” Hannibal said as he snapped his menu closed, and laid it on the table, then brushed his hand over the cloth.

“Or they don’t want a fire.” Will set his on menu down. “What are you having?”

“I’ll try their risotto,” Hannibal sighed, and looked at Will’s features as they were lit by the candlelight. He was prepared for mild disappointment.

“Don’t go in expecting much and you’ll enjoy it a lot more,” Will whispered, reaching to take Hannibal’s hand over the candle.

“How does one stop the act of anticipation and comparison, precisely?” Hannibal asked, with an air of amusement. “Amnesia?”

“Just don’t expect as much as you might a five star dining experience,” Will murmured. “Imagine it’s me cooking and not you.”

“It’s possible that my expectations are just as difficult to tame as my appetite,” Hannibal reasoned, and squeezed Will’s hand, twice.

“It is precisely the reason you have ruined me for all others.”

Will shook his head, squeezing Hannibal's hand, leaning over, closer. “If you hate it, you can dine on me when we get there.”

Hannibal smiled, and leaned closer, then kissed Will’s knuckles, gallantly. “I’d like that, very much.”

“But no complaining until we get there,” Will insisted quietly, watching the touch of Hannibal’s lips to his own skin, still very much awestruck that they finally got here.

“I think I can hold my complaints until we’ve arrived at our destination,” Hannibal said, with a nod of his head, eyes sparkling now with the promise of devouring Will in private.

“Good. I’m starved.”

The waiter came by and Will ordered the BLT and side of fries and handed his menu over, and then ordered for Hannibal, the risotto and glass of accompanying wine.

Hannibal swirled his wine, and inhaled the scent before he tried a mouthful of it, but did not say a word about it, as promised. “Shall I check on the dogs before we eat?”

“Do you want to?” Will quirked a curious brow at Hannibal. “I don’t mind doing it.” “I’ll be back in just a moment,” Hannibal promised, and set his napkin on the table before he stood, kissed Will’s cheek, and left the restaurant for a moment, to open the back of the truck and look in on the dogs inside the cab.

Will watched, stealing a sip of the wine with a grimace, and then set it down once more. Watching Hannibal with his dogs was heartwarming, thrumming through his veins wildly with love.

Hannibal stopped Buster from jumping out of the truck, and arranged a blanket for them on the floor of the cab, then tossed a little ball for them to play with before he took Xena and Winston out by their leashes, down the street to go to the bathroom. He returned with them quickly, loaded them in, closed the truck and made certain it was locked, and returned to the table.

“They have eaten, Winston and Xena seemed restless, so I took them for an excursion. They’re all playing with a tennis ball for the moment,” Hannibal said, as he took his seat again, his hair a little loose.

Will’s eyes lit up when Hannibal returned, pushing a glass of water brought over toward him. “Thank you. We won’t be much longer and then they can run around the house.”

Hannibal sipped his water and then raised his wine glass, pausing to inhale the scent again. “Did you have some of my wine, Will?”

“I wanted to taste it.” Will shrugged and their meals were set down in front of them.

“You’ve developed a taste for wine?” Hannibal asked, before taking a taste of his risotto.

“I’ve never minded it. I don’t drink the kinds you do, however.” Will canted his head at Hannibal and then put some mayo and mustard on his sandwich.

“What do you like?” Hannibal asked, and winced a little at how Will was dressing his sandwich, particularly the bright yellow mustard that looked more like finger paint than anything decent.

“I’ve mostly only drank wine with you, and whatever table wine Molly brought home,” Will explained and smashed his sandwich together to take a bite. “Why are you staring at my sandwich all weird?”

“Am I allowed to complain about your food, Will? Or must I refrain from saying anything negative about the entire experience?” Hannibal asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“How can you complain when you haven’t tried it?” Will asked, taking a bite of the crispy fried bacon on the bed of lettuce and tomato. It wasn’t the best, but he was starved.

“I’ll be certain to let you know, later,” Hannibal said, and then tried a bite of the risotto. It was as he expected. Aside from filling the empty space in his stomach, there was nothing to recommend it.

Will laughed behind a bite, and then another, humming. “Well,” he said leaning forward, “mine is not that bad.”

Will’s laugh was a sound rarely heard, it was strangely light for a man capable of such intense brooding, and Hannibal smiled. “High praise, indeed.”

“I’m really hungry, this could be made disgusting and I’d still eat it.” Will touched Hannibal’s knee under the table with his own.

“I’m intrigued by your abilities as a food critic,” Hannibal smirked. “I can imagine the articles now.”

“I can start with your food if you’d like?” Will asked, sipping some water to get the gristle down.

“You’re going to critique the food I prepare for you?” Hannibal asked, sitting up a little straighter, his lips shifted just a touch to the side.

“You said you were interested,” Will offered with a smile and took two more bites.

Hannibal considered it for a moment, tapping two well filed, short nails on the table top for a moment before he nodded. “Very well. You may review me, David Wolfe: food critic.”

Will grinned, taking his last bite. “I look forward to tasting.”

“What, in return, am I permitted to critique of yours, David?” Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head, as he finished his wine.

“What would you like to critique?” Will raised a brow, watching Hannibal carefully as they began a new game. It was always something.

“Your grooming habits?” Hannibal asked, with a little smirk as he eyed Will’s unkempt scruff and unruly curls.

“You've never complained before,” Will said with a look, scowling a little. He pushed his plate side and ran a hand through his hair.

“Nor have you complained about my cooking,” Hannibal said, with a soft laugh, and squeezed Will’s hand over the table. “Your wardrobe, then?”

“I wasn't planning to say anything awful,” Will sighed, scowling at Hannibal. “You constantly complain about my clothes. Nothing new there.”

“In all of my years, in every nation I’ve ever visited, _you_ are the most stunningly attractive man I’ve ever laid eyes upon,” Hannibal told Will honestly, keeping his voice soft. “You insist on wrapping yourself in shoddily made flannel and canvas. It is akin to covering Michelangelo's David in burlap.”

“Would you prefer I walk around wearing less? I’m sure the neighbor would love that,” Will replied just as quietly.

Hannibal narrowed his eyes and pushed the remainder of his risotto to the side. “That is not what I would prefer, David.”

Their eyes met and Will smiled, a smirk really. “Would you like to help me pick out clothes for the new job I need to obtain?”

“I won’t refuse,” Hannibal agreed, and accepted their bill from the waiter, paying in cash before he stood.

Will drank his water and then stood, taking Hannibal’s hand. “Would that make you happy?”

“You would be a very easy man to dress well,” Hannibal said, as their fingers laced together, and they walked back to the truck full of dogs. Most of the dogs were sleeping by now, snoring loudly in a big, warm pile in the back. “There are many people who can be well-dressed, but never attractive. You could very easily be both.”

“Oh thank, God,” Will chuckled as he got back inside and buckled in, and leaned to kiss Hannibal’s lips once.

Hannibal sighed at his soon to be husband, and started the truck once more as Xena woke up, and crawled into the front to curl up on Will’s lap with a little grunt. They headed back toward the highway, away from the shore. “Having had incredible good looks all of your life, I think you may underestimate their impact, Will.”

“I don’t when it comes to you.” Will knew very well the sort of impact he had on Hannibal, had since he was released from BSHCI.

Hannibal huffed a small laugh at that, and looked over at Will as they left the city behind, plunging into the darkness as they headed toward a mountain range. “I stand corrected, in that case.”

Will knew how to get what he wanted with his looks when it came to Hannibal, even if he played coy, like he had no idea. Will touched Hannibal’s knee. “Are we almost there?”

Hannibal consulted the watch on his wrist. “We will arrive in two hours. If you’d like to sleep again, you may use my coat.”

“No, that’s alright.” Will turned the heat up a little though and then folded his arms over his chest, gazing out the window with Xena in his lap.

“What do you imagine you will teach?” Hannibal asked after a moment of comfortable silence between them with only the sound of the heater and the sound of the road under the truck’s wheels. Their drive in the dark was oddly soothing.

“English, probably,” Will said, head lolling back against the seat headrest. “I don’t think I’d be good at much else.”

“I think you’d have a firm grasp on psychology,” Hannibal said with a little smirk.

“Do they teach that in high school?” Will asked, since it’d been awhile since he’d gone. “I could apply for school therapist.”

Hannibal turned his head to look at Will, nodding slowly. “I think you may be in a position to save as many lives as a school therapist as you were working for the FBI.”

“Are you… being coy or mocking me?” Will raised a brow over at Hannibal, watching him with a grim look.

“Adolescence and childhood are tumultuous times. It’s quite possible that you may unlock the darkness in a troubled mind before a tragedy occurs,” Hannibal said, clarifying his statement.

“Maybe.” Will shrugged and pet the puppy’s head softly. He did have a lot of background in it.

“If Francis Dolarhyde had met you in his youth, could you have spotted him before he began to kill?” Hannibal asked, and reached back to pet Poptart’s back as she shifted on the blanket in her sleep.

“Possibly. It’s what I do, I could watch kids and figure it out.” Will watched Hannibal with Poptart, smiling softly. “She likes you. You are her favorite.”

Hannibal looked mildly surprised, and glanced down at the ugly little white dog who was upside down under his hand, her belly exposed to be petted by the Lithuanian. “Is that what this particular pose indicates? Favour?”

“She wants her belly rubbed. She likes that from her favorite people,” Will pointed out and reached to rub her belly once. “She didn’t like Molly doing that.”

Hannibal smiled brightly, at that, and rubbed Poptart’s stomach for her, slowly. “Strange that she should feel she can offer her most vulnerable spot to my hand, and not Molly’s.”

“Dogs are fickle.” Will snuggled Xena against him, listening to little puppy breathing.

“It’s nice to be someone’s favorite,” Hannibal mused, as Poptart grunted a little and stretched slowly, upside down before she wriggled closer to Hannibal to put her head on his leg to sleep.

“It’s quite clear who is Xena’s favorite,” Hannibal noted as he looked at Will and the little lab puppy in his arms.

Will smiled over at Hannibal and rubbed his fingers over his thigh. “You’re my favorite.”

Hannibal felt a bubble of warmth rise in his chest, and he laughed at himself, softly. “Am I, really?” he asked his husband, who had never been forthcoming with compliments, or affection.

“You are.” Will had always picked Hannibal over most things, except for the one time.

“Your favorite chef?” Hannibal asked, coyly, as they rounded a bend and began to climb the base of the mountains. As soon as they were around the first bend, they were presented with a view of dark, tree-covered hills lit in silvery moonlight.

“My favorite everything.” Will gazed out over the view, content.

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal murmured, watching Will more intently than he looked at the tremendous view outside. “I’ll have to remember that when you snore in my ear.”

“I do not snore. Are you complaining only a few days into this?” Will laughed, shaking his head.

“I’m not complaining, per se,” Hannibal reminded Will, fondly. “If I minded, I would have rolled you over.” In fact, Hannibal had stayed perfectly still and listened to the rumbling sound of Will sleeping soundly, something Hannibal had not heard when Will had encephalitis. There was something charming and domestic about the sound that Hannibal could not place.

“You enjoyed it?” Will gave his husband to be a look, petting Xena to keep her asleep.

“I _tolerated_ it,” Hannibal said, smugly, and rounded another wide curve of the road. They were the only vehicle on that particular stretch of moonlit mountain road. The effect was as though they were driving through a silver-green dreamscape.

“Oh.” Will nodded, looking out the window instead of Hannibal. “I see.”

Hannibal sighed, and had to be impressed with the way Will could shift the mood of their conversation with little more than a tilt of his head. “It was the sound of a man in a deep, comfortable slumber, at home,” Hannibal said, after he let Will gaze out at the forest for a moment. “That is what I enjoyed about it.”

“I’ll try not to snore anymore.” Will soothed his hands over Xena’s fur. “At least it wasn’t a death rattle.”

“I will do my best to remember that when my back aches. It’s never been quite the same since I carried you through the deep snow to your house after I rescued you from Mason,” Hannibal said, in return, with a sigh.

“I suppose I could have slung you over my shoulder, but I carried you in my arms, Will, so that you would be more comfortable.”

“There was a car, you didn’t walk me that far in the snow,” Will pointed out, having been awake enough to know they hadn’t froze out there that long.

“I hid the car three miles from your house behind an abandoned barn, and carried you the rest of the way,” Hannibal informed Will, then looked at him. “I had assumed Jack would have told you as much after examining the evidence.”

“I didn’t ask.” Will had disconnected himself from Jack and everyone else after that whole fiasco.

Another moment of silence passed in the car between them, only a few heartbeats long. “You had just suffered two wounds to your face. Inverting you over my shoulder would have encouraged blood to pool in those areas, which would not have been life-threatening, but is certainly not ideal. Considering I had inflicted the more serious of the two wounds, I made a conscious decision to carry you with your head against my shoulder, and your body in my arms.” Hannibal rolled his window down a touch, to let the pine-scented air in while they talked. “I had already pulled more than a single muscle in the small of my back, thanks to Mason’s bindings, not to mention the soft tissue trauma of the brand. However, I felt it … appropriate to prioritize your care and comfort, even if you would never remember the event,” Hannibal confessed, quietly.

“I recall some of it, not a lot though,” Will whispered, reaching to take Hannibal’s hand once more. “I never said thank you. You could have run without me, and you didn’t.”

Hannibal felt something deep within his chest relax when Will touched his hand again, like a connection that had been pulled thin and tight for a moment was relaxed and open once more.

“I had already run without you once,” Hannibal said, thoughtfully. “It was very disappointing. I’m afraid to say I didn’t have as much fun as I’d hoped. My world is a more interesting place with you in it, Will.”

“If you’d just waited the first time…” Will smiled. He had been very unclear of himself that day, but he knew once he’d seen Hannibal that he’d run with him, he’d go.

“If only,” Hannibal sighed, and pressed his lips into a grim, sad smile. “At the time, I had assumed your affection for me was an act.”

“So did I,” Will admitted, squeezing Hannibal’s hand over Poptart. “It wasn’t until I heard your voice on the other end that I knew I needed to run away with you.”

Hannibal swallowed hard, over a tight squeeze in his throat. He could remember that moment, vividly, so vividly that the scents of the kitchen came back to him in a rush of sense memory. His hand tightened on the wheel, and he stroked his thumb over Will’s skin where they touched.

It was, along with the details of Mischa’s death, the only moment in his life he found he could not speak about. His brain would simply not permit language to form to describe the emotions that had run through him. Hannibal’s usual eloquence dissolved in the face of the experience of the sound of Will’s voice on the other end of the line, turning into sand.

He took a deep breath, and looked down at their hands, then out at the surreal landscape. “We are running together, now.”

“We are.” That night had haunted Will for years. It’d put him in a state of depression until he met Molly, and then he wrapped up the emotion and shoved it down. “Long overdue.” Hannibal pulled the truck over to the side of the road at the apex of the mountain they were on, and moved his hand from Will’s to put it in park. There was a clearing with a bench at the top of the mountain, obviously a popular spot during the day for photos. “I’m sure the dogs would like a chance to relieve themselves,” he said, softly. “Okay.” Will quietly got out of the car, zipping up his coat, and then got Xena on her leash, as Poptart stayed with Hannibal. Will then got the other dogs that wanted out on their leashes, and wandered off a way to let them do just that, hoping there were no more cougars.

Hannibal stepped outside with Poptart, ensuring that she was on her leash as well, and looked over the island laid out under their feet, in the moonlight. Will phoning him on that night, long ago, to warn him had changed the act of killing Abigail and his plan to kill Will and leave from a sterile act of purging before he began a new life on a clean page to something messier, something far more painful. Knowing that Will wanted him to escape the FBI, knowing Will had some regret for what he’d done complicated things, and destroyed Hannibal’s ability to sever his emotional connection to Will, cleanly. The emotional connection ensured that gutting and leaving Will had been just as painful for Hannibal as it had been for Will. It had ruined his time in Europe. It ensured that Will would haunt him, the entire time. Dogs back in the truck, Will set Xena in the front seat and then wandered off to find a spot to relieve himself as well, the water he had at dinner having gone right through him. Finally, Will got back in and sighed, the silence was thick and deafening, and now his thoughts ran rapid along the lines of a past he told himself he wouldn’t jump back into. The past was full of memories that made him angry and depressed, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t bring them back up now that things were better.

“Would you prefer to drive?” Hannibal asked, after opening the driver’s side door.

“Sure.” Will scooted over and buckled into the driver’s seat and Xena whined a little until Will moved her so her head was on his thigh.

Hannibal climbed into the passenger side, and let Poptart go to close the door. She curled up on his lap, and looked up at him with an adoring, toothy grin. “From where did you acquire her, Will?” Hannibal asked, curiously, as he gave the little gargoyle-faced dog a pet.

“Found her, no one claimed her, so I kept her,” Will explained as they started to drive, no need for directions when the road only went one way.

Hannibal looked at his husband, flatly. “I had assumed as much, Will.”

“So… why ask?” Will glanced at Hannibal for a moment and then his eyes were back on the road. Their discussion from before had soured the mood and the air.

“I was curious as to her condition when you found her. However, if you’d rather not discuss it, I have no interest in forcing a conversation,” Hannibal replied, civilly, but cooly.

“I didn’t know that’s what you were asking.” Will sighed, hands tight on the wheel. “She wasn’t sick or anything. She had the overbite and that’s about it. Vet said she was healthy.”

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal said, and looked out the window. Winston nosed his way to the little window that divided the back of the truck from the front, and stuck his head through it to sniff at Will’s ear, then licked him, able to feel that Will was tense.

Will nodded and kept to himself the rest of the drive there, only asking Hannibal when they reached a fork which way to go, and then finally they were at their destination. Will got out and unloaded the dogs first, on leashes for the moment.

Hannibal had closed his eyes and rested, rather than slept while Will brooded. He had wandered the halls of his mind palace, examining their relationship in all of the space it took up in his mind. Will, like the sea just beyond the comfort of the resort, was choppy and cold this evening. Hannibal checked them in at the desk, under their new names, and then waited for his irate, standoffish companion and their family of dogs with the key in hand. He led their quiet little family outside, and through a path that led to the shore of the ocean. Instead of a five star hotel, he had reserved a log cabin situated on the beach that accepted dogs, and promised peace and quiet. Under more romantic circumstances, it would have been a lovely surprise. He unlocked the door and held it open for Will and the dogs.

The dogs rushed in first and Will let them off their leashes, and then touched Hannibal’s waist once as he passed him and into the cabin. “Hardly the sort of place I thought you’d reserve.”

The cabin was small, constructed from honey colored, lacquered logs fitted tightly together that could be seen from the inside. It was clean, and small with a kitchen along one wall, a small sofa, and a bed in the main room with the kitchen that faced outward, looking over a low deck toward the sea itself. “You don’t have to worry about the dogs disturbing anyone should they bark, here,” Hannibal said. “In addition, I requested a cabin with heated floors, and requested that they were set to warm for our arrival, so that they are comfortable.” The touch to his waist broke most of the tension as the dogs swarmed in and most of them curled up on the warm floor, stretching out in a sleepy, happy mood, yawning back and forth. Only Buster jumped up onto the high bed dressed with white, thick blankets.

With the rustic, quiet surroundings, and the bed in the middle of their small living space, it was very much like Wolf Trap had been.

Hannibal removed his coat, and moved to the fireplace to start a fire, but paid attention to Will’s reaction to their unexpected surroundings.

Will removed Buster from the bed as he passed it and then really took a look around, feeling oddly nostalgic. It was simple and easy, it wasn’t overbearing in any way. Hannibal had given up comfort for him and the dogs.

“That was very thoughtful of you. Thank you,” he said very quietly.

Hannibal looked back at Will, over his shoulder as the spark caught dry wood, and lit the fire. He closed the glass over the fireplace, and stood. Some of Hannibal’s frost had melted by now, and he moved to Will. Will’s scars were a happy reminder that they had been through many years since that terrible, final night in Hannibal’s kitchen.

“I wanted to surprise you,” he said, softly, and took Will’s rough hand in his own. Those words were very different now, with the sound of ocean waves in the background.

“So you did,” Will said and squeezed his hand in Hannibal’s own, emotion caught in his throat for a moment at the little reminder.

Hannibal’s heart beat a little faster as he touched Will’s cheek as he had that night, staring at him. This time, however, he leaned in, and kissed him on the lips, in the kitchen by the ocean as dogs began to snore on the warm floor around their feet.

Breath hitching when Hannibal leaned in, Will felt as though this were the first time all over again. He held Hannibal at his shoulders, grasping tightly as their lips meshed together.

Hannibal bent down a little lower over Will, and clasped him with both arms as they kissed. In his mind, he could hear a blade dropping on the floor, discarded. History could not be changed, but it could be amended, added to. This was how it should have been. Their joined forms were lined in silver, from the light of the moon through the window as they nearly wrapped around each other.

Will felt every wound he had mend with gold, stitched tight and sealed shut. “Hannibal…” he whispered against his mouth, holding tighter.

Splitting away from Will, even a little, was agonizing, but coming back together with him in a rush was something Hannibal knew he could easily find as addictive as killing. It was their dance, a bloody push-pull, push-pull that Hannibal hoped would last forever. “I love you,” Hannibal whispered, against the uneven, lovely curve of Will’s cupid bow lips.

“I love you, too,” Will whispered back, taking a deep breath and letting out slowly, resting their heads together. He wanted to ask if they were good, but he could feel it in his bones, everything was fine.

They barely needed words to have an argument that lasted hours, and punished both of them; they didn’t need words to remedy the tear, either. Hannibal nuzzled Will, and kissed him again, more softly this time with both hands cupping his face. “Forgiveness is a wound that must be dressed more than once before the mend becomes permanent,” Hannibal whispered.

“It takes a little time and effort,” Will agreed between kisses, tone low and sweet, laced with apology.

“Well worth the work,” Hannibal whispered, with the same sound in his voice as his hands slid down low, against Will’s shoulders.

“I think so.” Will leaned in and kissed Hannibal again, soundly, arms around his waist now, holding him closer so they were chest to chest.

“I’m glad we agree,” Hannibal whispered as he undid Will’s shirt, slowly.

Will shrugged his coat off quickly and shucked it onto the couch, diving back into kiss Hannibal as he worked the doctor’s shirt undone. “At least we agree on something.”

“So long as we agree on at least one thing,” Hannibal whispered, and shrugged his own shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. He pulled Will to him, again, and walked him back to the bed as they kissed.

Will tossed his shirt off and let it rest with Hannibal’s, his knees hitting the bed first as he sank down into it, pulling Hannibal over him, hands on his waist, fingers seeking out well worked muscle and skin.

Hannibal crawled over Will, gracefully, and kissed him down into the mattress as he straddled Will’s slender hips. He sucked Will’s lower lip as he undid Will’s belt, and let the leather and metal fall open as he undid his pants, breathing harder before he even had Will’s zipper down.

“Hannibal-” Will breathed out, lifting his hips so Hannibal could remove the pants as he reached to undo Hannibal’s as well.

Will’s pants slid off to reveal white skin lit gold by the fire crackling next to them. Hannibal stood to strip down, slowly, letting Will admire him as he peeled everything off, then licked his lips and crawled over Will, again. “Better?”

Hands immediately on Hannibal once he was back, Will nodded as his fingers dug deep into Hannibal’s hairy chest. He rolled his hips up to meet his, breathing harder at the contact. After so little talk in the truck for the last two hours, Will felt more connected to his soon to be husband when they were like this, and not frigid with one another.

The chill between them had melted, thankfully. Hannibal admired Will’s smooth, scarred body and stroked a broad palm down his chest and stomach before he teased Will’s cock with it. “I will never become used to how stunning you are, Will.”

Will chuffed, shifting his jaw once before kissing Hannibal, gazing up into his eyes, no barriers or forts. “You’ll never have to.”

“I used to draw you, as I imagined you might look like this,” Hannibal confessed. The fire lit Hannibal’s eyes the color of cognac as he straddled Will’s hips, and rocked against him, the muscular curve of Hannibal’s ass brushing and rubbing the length of Will’s cock.

“Oh? Where are those drawings now?” Will asked, smiling coyly up at Hannibal, hands working down his chest to his waist, touching every inch he could.

“Likely kept as evidence,” Hannibal whispered as he rocked back, and stared down at Will through lidded eyes. He could feel Will’s cock throb and get even harder against him when he moved against it, teasing Will. “I could make more.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t since we moved here,” Will groaned, holding Hannibal by the hips, watching their lengths slide together, dripping against one another.

“I may yet,” Hannibal whispered, not sure what was more erotic, the sight of their cocks together, or the sight of Will watching them. “You might enjoy it…”

“Enjoy having you draw me?” Will reached between them and gripped them both, adding more friction with his calloused palm.

“Or draw _us_ ,” Hannibal whispered. He kissed Will again, tasting him with a sweep of his tongue as he thrust against the hard calluses on Will’s palm.

“Family portrait? Or porn?” Will raised a coy, teasing brow as he squeezed their lengths together, rolling his hips up.

“Something erotic,” Hannibal purred, and bit at the side of Will’s throat, as though punishing him for mocking Hannibal’s suggestion.

Gasping at the pain, Will held tight to Hannibal’s shoulders with his free hand. “I… could like that.”

“You enjoy staring at us together,” Hannibal whispered, before he bit Will’s ear.

“I like us together in any sense,” Will whispered back, roughly, hissing at the pain that bloomed sweet pleasure through his spine.

“So it seems,” Hannibal groaned, and shifted down Will’s body to tease Will’s nipple with the edge of his teeth as his hand took over stroking them, his back arched up, stretched and sinewy in the firelight.

Will watched down the slope of Hannibal’s back as his mouth dropped, hand reaching into Hannibal’s hair to grasp gently. “I could never grow tired of this.”

Hannibal raked his blunt, smooth nails over Will’s hip when he arched. Will seemed to like flashes of pain with arousal, punctuating their seduction like blood spatter. He bit Will’s nipple, and tugged it with his teeth, then sucked slowly before he kissed his way down Will’s abdomen to the scar, nuzzling the long, gruesome mark as he stroked and squeezed Will’s cock with one hand and teased Will’s asshole with the other.

Finally, Will’s head lolled back and his eyes closed to absorb the pleasure as it coursed through his veins, pooling in his lower back. He rutted his ass down against Hannibal’s fingers, eager and wanton.

Hannibal kissed Will’s inner thigh, and pressed Will’s legs up, against his chest to spread him. “Is that what you wanted?” Hannibal asked, in a low, sultry voice, and ran his tongue over the sensitive nerves around the outside of Will’s entrance.

“I just want you…” Will murmured, glad to have any sort of contact with Hannibal. He grabbed his legs to hold them up, spreading his ass further.

“Will,” Hannibal rumbled at the sight of Will spreading himself open like that, and gave his smooth ass a gentle slap before he tongued him, slipping his infamously devilish tongue inside Will to open and slick him. Hannibal’s notorious tastebuds rasped against Will’s sensitive nerves in a way that nothing else could, hot and just the right amount of rough.

Writhing with want, Will’s toes curled, fingers white against his own skin. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal’s thumbs pressed small indentations into the muscle of Will’s ass as he helped him spread, and rimmed him more deeply, eyes closed. Soft strands of Hannibal’s hair brushed over Will’s balls as his head bobbed, slowly, and he gripped one hand around Will’s cock, stroking him slowly.

“Oh, Fuc-” Will started, gripping his legs tighter, anything to not explode right then and there. His thighs shook, quivering with the amount of need buzzing through him. The sound Will made did nothing but make Hannibal more determined to make Will come from the touch of his tongue and hand alone. He shifted closer, his powerful shoulders rolling upward as he drove his tongue into Will, fucking him with it now while he stroked his rosy, hard cock faster and faster.

“Hannibal, I--” Will gasped, feet dropped to the bed to rock his hips against Hannibal’s tongue, needing more of everything he was giving. “Please.” Will was utterly shameless in his need, loud and pleading. It was glorious. Hannibal gave Will exactly what he begged for, even the solid wood bed moving under them against the warm floor as he threw his entire body into the act of rimming Will and stroking him so quickly that his hand felt as though it blurred in the air. He hummed, and the sound rumbled through Will’s flesh.

Will hands clutched the bedsheets, his whole body shaking as he came, spilling over Hannibal’s knuckled and on his scarred up stomach. “Hannibal-!”

There was a shuddering, deep, primal sort of strength to Will’s orgasm that made Hannibal moan as he felt Will erupt like Vesuvius over his fingers. He pulled his mouth away, slowly and watched Will’s body in the throes of orgasm for a moment before he lapped the come from Will’s pink skin like a large cat. “My darling Will…”

Still shaking, Will pulled Hannibal up to him, like a large, warm blanket, and kissed the taste of himself off his lips and tongue, his heart ready to burst with how full of love and passion he felt in the moment for Hannibal.

Hannibal kissed back, almost falling into the kiss when Will pulled him in. He smiled against Will’s needy, hot mouth, and curled both arms around Will’s shaky body, then moaned against him.

Will wrapped his legs around Hannibal’s hips, and then rolled them so he straddled the doctor, kissing down into his mouth with long, languid sweeps of his tongue.

With a groan, Hannibal let himself be rolled onto his back by Will, and kissed him back, passionately. He was still hard, throbbing and wet at the tip from rimming Will to completion. Hannibal’s hands roved over Will’s bare body restlessly, like he was trying to touch all of Will at once as blood pounded in his ears.

“Bottle, in my bag, near the top…” Hannibal whispered, between frantic kisses.

Slipping off, Will found the bottle and came back to Hannibal, sliding back over his hips. “How do you want me…” “On top,” Hannibal whispered, roughly, hands gripping Will’s hips to position him.

Will was wet and well worked open, so he only used a little lube on himself before slathered Hannibal’s rigid cock with it, and slowly sank over him with a low, rumbled sigh. “Mm.” Hannibal gasped, shaky and deep, and then stroked his palms over Will’s ass as he stared up at him. “Will,” he breathed, in awe.

The sensation was completely different like this, and Will flushed hot with want once more, a renewed heat boiling through him. Will leveraged him with his palms pressed to Hannibal’s chest, fingers digging deep into his tawny skin.

Hannibal planted his heel into the mattress and thrust his hips up, driving himself into Will as he watched. “Perfect-”

Sweat slicked Will’s skin, dampening his hair to his forehead, glistening across his smooth chest. “Yes-”

They began to move together, slowly, their bodies writhing and undulating in the firelight. Hannibal’s nails dug into Will’s back as he hung onto him, keeping him close for every thrust. Will pressed down hard, meeting Hannibal in time, their bodies syncing up perfectly, mind and body.

“Hannibal-”

Hannibal’s hands made their way up to Will’s shoulders and gripped the whole and scarred shoulder alike. He pulled Will down, over him, arching up and thrusting into Will hard from below.

“Will-” he moaned, in a guttural tone, raggedly.

Hard all over again, Will was stimulated quite differently like this, his whole body aching and arching into every swift and powerful move, pleasure building at the base of his spine. He never knew he’d enjoy something like this so much.

Hannibal guided Will back, just a little, changing the angle of where his cock struck Will inside. “Fuck,” he gasped, letting a rare profanity slip past his lips as he felt his body flash hotter, burning from the small of his back outward, fingers and toes tingling hard.

Leaning back, back arched that way, Will held on to Hannibal’s calves, whipping his hips forward, cock slapping between Hannibal’s belly and his own.The curse from Hannibal lips spurred will on, sweating down the small of his back as the heat grew and threatened once more.

Hannibal breathed in short, sharp gasps, fragments of words escaping as he began to tremble. Finally, Hannibal came, explosively, buried deep inside Will’s body. His long torso was arched off of the mattress, like an archer’s bow, shaking hard.

“C’mon,” Will managed, the only word that could make it from his lips with the short gasping breaths he took, making every grind down worth it, pushing himself over the edge.

Hannibal’s hand wrapped around Will’s cock, stroking as he came, slowly. They came to rest together, panting on the bed, which they’d made into a glorious mess.

After a few minutes of just breathing and catching their breaths, Will kissed the side of Hannibal’s jaw. “I’ll never grow tired of you. I’ll never just tolerate you again,” he murmured, voice rough and deep with sex. “I love you.”

Hannibal’s head was tipped back as Will kissed him, and he smiled into the hot air around them, then wrapped loose, shaky arms around Will, tenderly, and tipped his head forward to press a kiss to Will’s smooth lips. “I’ve used blades to wound you, your weapon of choice has always been _psychological_ damage, Will,” Hannibal murmured, with a hard swallow. He touched the side of Will’s flushed face, staring at him, adoringly. Will, more than anyone on Earth, had wounded Hannibal for life. “Thank you for kissing that particular scar.”

Will nuzzled against Hannibal, soft in ways he never thought they would be able to be together, but as they blended and mixed, the softer and more pliable they found the other to be. “I don’t want anymore arguing or fighting. I don’t want to think about the past. Our lives are in the present and what the future holds.”

Hannibal closed his eyes, and nodded, then used his long, bronzed legs to kick the white duvet down, and pulled it up over them both, snuggling Will in his arms. “I agree, Will,” he whispered, against Will’s lips.

Wrapping every limb around Hannibal he could, Will snuggled him back, not minding at all about their sweat or anything. He kissed Hannibal on the lips once more and settled in for sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

The next morning, before Will woke, Hannibal was already cooking in the tiny kitchen along one side of the cabin. The dogs were crowded around their dishes, eating with wagging tails as the smell of bacon and caramelized onions filled the room.

Will woke to the smell long before he did the light or the sound of the dogs eating. Rolling over in bed, he covered his head with one of the pillows, only then realizing the heat in bed with him was gone. He groaned and peeked out at Hannibal from under the pillow.

Hannibal was in the process of teaching Xena to sit, patiently. He crouched in front of her, unaware that Will was awake. “Sit, Xena, asseyez-vous,” he instructed, and helped her sit by pressing gently just above her tail. Xena sat, and Hannibal offered her a tiny piece of bacon from his fingers, then repeated the process. Buster noticed, and raced over to stand in front of Xena and try to earn bacon by sitting and offering his paw, which made Hannibal chuckle. “Not yet, Buster,” he murmured, and lured him out of the way with bacon, then turned to Xena again. “Asseyez-vous, Xena. Sit.”

Smiling to himself, Will dropped his hand to the side of the bed to call Buster over and give his head a pet, so he wouldn’t distract Xena. Then, he pushed the covers off and yawned, stretching his arm high above his head.

Buster jumped up into bed, followed by Winston, and Hannibal looked up. “Good morning, Will. We were wondering when you would wake.” The sound and smell of the calm ocean permeated the thick log walls of the cabin, and gave everything a soothing feeling, this morning.

“Someone wore me out,” Will murmured, letting the dogs snuggle with him for a moment before he shooed them off and put on his boxers. “Something smells good.”

“The beginning of what I hope will be an acceptable omelet,” Hannibal said with a smile and carried Xena over to Will to say hello. “Everyone has already been out to relieve themselves this morning. Some of them,” he looked at the yellow lab puppy in his arms, “three times.”

“She’ll get it. Better than in here.” Will snuggled Xena and then kissed Hannibal over her soft head.

Hannibal kissed Will slowly, their mood carrying over from the night before. “I think she’s discovered that if she goes multiple times, she will be rewarded with multiple treats.”

“She is smart,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s mouth, the afterglow still very much present around them.

“As clever as you are,” Hannibal said with a soft smile. He was dressed casually today, in dark trousers and a light sweater the color of whiskey. “Shall I make some coffee?”

“I can do it if you want,” Will said, putting Xena on the ground to roll around with Winston.

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal nodded, and kissed Will again, his neck this time, unable to get enough of the way his skin smelled there. Something about it paired well with the scent of the sea air.

Will nuzzled Hannibal’s face once and then stepped around him to start the coffee, a look over his shoulder at his husband to be, coy and alluring, lighting the sparkle in his otherwise dim blue eyes. “You’re welcome.” “I’d recommend a trip outside to take in the view. It’s breathtaking, even for a man without interest in fishing of any kind,” Hannibal said, as he began to combine bacon, onions, and cheese in a bowl with eggs for their omelets.

Will hummed under his breath as he made the coffee and then set it to brew. Nothing fancy, but that was okay. “A good idea, since it was so dark and preoccupying when we got here.” He got dressed after picking up his clothes from last night, and then slipped his boots on and a coat.

“Well worth the long trip,” Hannibal assured Will, and took a look over his shoulder at Will as he dressed. Winston and Buster hurried to join Will, as did Xena, eager to get outside again to see the little creatures that lived in the nearest tide pool. Soon all of the dogs were huddled around the door, waiting to be set free.

Will laughed and leashed them up, so they didn’t go wandering off. He gave Hannibal one last kiss to his high cheekbone, and then walked out with the dogs, letting them sniff and wander around. The dogs hurried outside, eagerly. Xena pulled hard at her leash, trying to lead the pack toward the low tide pools filled with water, seaweed, and mussels. Hannibal opened the kitchen window with a smile to watch Will surrounded by his dogs, framed by high rocks and the surf beyond. His feet left a familiar impression in the wet sand as Buster chewed at his leash, and Xena picked up the bad habit. Poptart, however, lagged behind, looking at the cabin with a whimper.

Will scooped Poptart up and snuggled her, kissing her head once, leaving Hannibal to make breakfast as they all waded through sand and tides, and then finally made their way back. Will let them off the leashes and then went to Hannibal to hand over his elder baby.

Hannibal met Will at the door as the dogs splashed around, and took the white dog into his arms. “I thought she might decide to stay home,” he said and watched the dogs inflict mayhem on the little bay of water outside their cabin.

Poptart snuggled down, into Hannibal’s sweater, her nose buried in the fabric next to his neck. “Breakfast will be ready soon. Would you like to eat outside?”

“We can,” Will said, making sure to keep an eye on the dogs, who weren’t going anywhere, thankfully.

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Hannibal murmured as he began to set the small table on their redwood deck, followed the entire time by Poptart. Xena came running up to Will, soaking wet, covered in dark seaweed, and dropped a seashell at his feet, then looked at Will like she wanted him to throw it, like a ball.

Will laughed and threw the shell with a little sigh. “Bathtime after breakfast.”

Xena raced off after the shell as Hannibal set their coffee cups on the table, and brought breakfast out. “Breakfast is served.”

Will turned his chair to watch the dogs in the ocean, and around to be sure no predatory animals were lurking about. He sat down and picked up the mug, sipping on it. “Smells great.” Will leaned over and kissed Hannibal’s cheek once more, still thinking about the night before. “Thank you for breakfast.”

Hannibal caught the look and smiled back at Will, sure they were both very much basking in the extended afterglow. “You’re quite welcome. It’s hardly elaborate.”

“It’s perfect,” Will said with a small smile.

“After breakfast, perhaps we could explore the city. I drove in while you slept to purchase the essentials. It’s a charming place,” Hannibal said, as he watched Buster chase a bird.

“Was I out that long?” Will chuckled, wondering what made him sleep that much, but he didn’t have to think back too far.

“You were quite exhausted,” Hannibal said, smugly, his eyes sparkling over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Can’t imagine why?” Will murmured into his mug and then set it down to eat his breakfast. He forked some into his mouth with a soft sigh, content. “Even with the most simple of ingredients, you manage to do better than anyone else.”

Hannibal beamed at the compliment, across the table. “Rare praise from you, Will.”

“I have always enjoyed your food.” Will took another bite, slowly, savoring the taste and licking the remains from the fork.

“The reminder is always welcome,” Hannibal said, with a smile as he watched Will eat with the same fascination with which he’d watched him during their first dinner together.

Will trusted no one died to be in the meal as he ate, considering they were trying desperately hard to avoid being caught. “I’ll try to remember to tell you more.” He’d stroke Hannibal’s ego a little.

“I’m well aware that you’re uncomfortable giving compliments, Will. Giving a compliment causes you nearly as much distress as receiving one used to,” Hannibal said, thoughtfully, and sipped his coffee.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t try,” Will offered, aware Hannibal had changed a few of his ways for him, he could attempt the same on a smaller scale.

“You’re going to try to compliment my cooking more often?” Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head and a smirk. “Will you squirm in your chair and look away when you do so, Will?”

“Did I just now?” Will furrowed his brows at Hannibal over the rim of his mug. “If you don’t want me to try, I won’t.”

“I’d love it if you tried, and yes,” Hannibal said, with the air of a psychiatrist, and husband. “Yes, you did shift in your seat, actually. I think compliments make you feel vulnerable.”

“Strange to confess my actual thoughts and feelings to you after three years and contented, holed off silence,” Will explained, shrugging his shoulders once, squirming a little. He was used to getting up, walking around, when talking to Hannibal.

Hannibal smiled and finished his breakfast. “That would make sense, Will, if you hadn’t been in the habit of squirming whenever giving a compliment since I’ve known you.”

“I find it hard to believe that you’d notice that at all since I never gave any compliments,” Will pointed out, taking his last bite of food and watched the dogs as he took another sip of coffee, perfectly drinkable now.

Hannibal just smiled to himself. “I have a very good memory, Will.”

“Name the time.” Will raised his brows toward Hannibal with a look, setting his mug down and giving his full attention for the moment to his husband to be.

“We were in your hotel room in Minnesota,” Hannibal said. “You were seated opposite me at the small table in your white t-shirt and boxer shorts, with your curls still mussed from sleep. You took your first bite of the protein scramble I had prepared and said, ‘that is delicious, thank you’. You did not look at me as you said it, at all.”

“You counted that as a compliment?” Will shook his head. It had been delicious, and he was being nice. “Is that the only time?”

Hannibal thought it over, looking up and to the side. “Aside from your recent compliments about my cooking, yes. I believe that is the only compliment you’ve ever paid me.”

“You prefer the looks I give instead,” Will said with a coy knowing, and stood to go gather up the dogs from the water.

Hannibal watched Will and picked up the plates. “I believe beggars cannot be choosers,” he quipped with a smirk.

Will threw a look over his shoulder as he rounded up the dogs. He got them all back to the house and grabbed a few towels. “Maybe not,” he said to Hannibal through the open door.

Hannibal looked back at Will and stepped outside with a handful of jerky to beckon the dogs close, giving them all a treat as they came in the door. “No?”

Shrugging, Will bent to start drying off dogs as they came and then handed them off to Hannibal for their treats, for being so good.

Hannibal just sighed and spotted one of the many dogs who had wandered closer to the bush. “I’ll get him,” he assured Will and strode to the handsome looking grey dog to offer him jerky. The large grey dog gave Hannibal an almost startled look, then padded a little closer, sniffing at the jerky in Hannibal’s hand. “Hannibal…” Will said, pushing the other dogs inside once they were dried off and then lingered closer to the other man. “That’s… that’s not a dog.”

The large grey dog had edged closer to Hannibal, finally completely out of the bushes, and only then did Hannibal see its eyes, clearly. It was a wolf. Hannibal kept eye contact, and set the jerky down, very slowly, then took a few slow steps back to the cabin, his face a little flushed as the wolf sniffed at the jerky with its gold eyes on the human who had tried to corral it back into a house. Hannibal laughed, hardly as alarmed as he should have been. “He’s beautiful, might we adopt him too?” he joked.

“You want a wolf?” Will asked, shutting the door behind them. “He’ll need to stay outside.”

Hannibal laughed and shook his head. “He’s a wild thing, Will, not meant to be adopted. I thought, when he was in the brush, that he was-” Hannibal gestured to one of the newer dogs, a gray husky mix. “This one.”

Will canted his head and then chuckled, leaning to pet the dog. “Similar but not quite.”

Hannibal gave the husky another piece of jerky since he had slipped in quietly and been missed in the count. “What is his name?”

“Oscar,” Will said with a knowing look, shrugging once, making sure the furrier dogs were all double wiped down, even if they did need a bath.

“Oscar, my apologies,” Hannibal chuckled and picked up Xena to put her in the kitchen sink for a bath to wash the seaweed out of her fur. “To be fair, Will, we were never properly introduced.”

“You’ve taken them out enough,” Will laughed, shaking his head, watching Hannibal with the puppy with a little smile. “I apologize for no formal introductions.”

Hannibal rolled up his sleeves and used a little soap to shampoo Xena while she tried to bite at the bubbles in the sink, chasing them around under Hannibal’s hands. “I think with a little more jerky, Oscar may forgive me.”

“Oh, she won’t recall it later,” Will said with a coy smirk and went to get a clean towel for Xena when she was done getting pampered.

“She?” Hannibal asked, as he herded Xena back into the sink, gently, and kept shampooing her fur. She barked at a large bubble, then growled at it, and pounced with both paws, trying to eat it.

“Yeah, she,” Will rolled his eyes and bopped Xena’s nose.

“I’ll do my best to remember that,” Hannibal said, as he rinsed Xena with the little shower wand, and handed the wet, roly-poly puppy to Will to dry off. “I’ve made two faux pas today.”

Amused, Will snuggled Xena in his arms and started to dry her off, letting her wet tongue scratch against his beard. “Don’t be hard on yourself.”

“I’ll blame it on my exhaustion after a rigorous night,” Hannibal said with a smirk at Will and looked him over, devilishly.

“Oh…” Will laughed as he set Xena down, nice and fluffed now. “We’ll have to do that more often.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Hannibal murmured, warmly, and licked his lips as he looked at Will. “It feels as though we’re already on a honeymoon.”

“We can make it our honeymoon if we find someone to marry us,” Will said, aware that they needed new papers first, but they had two weeks.

“I think that would be lovely, provided we can arrange for everything we need,” Hannibal agreed with a smile, and wrapped his arms around Will’s waist.

“Heard from Chiyoh?” Will asked, leaning into Hannibal’s hold, arms around Hannibal’s shoulders.

“Not yet, but I’m certain we will, very soon,” Hannibal assured Will as he gazed at him, utterly and completely in love. “I’d like for us to purchase new rings for the occasion.”

“I was planning on it,” Will spoke quietly, and rested their profiles together, still flying high on their night before.

“Were you?” Hannibal asked, with a slow, sultry smile, pleased.

“Proper rings for a proper marriage,” Will insisted with a small smile as he clasped his hands behind Hannibal’s shoulders.

“Did you have anything particular in mind?” Hannibal asked, his heart fluttering in his chest as they held each other.

“You want to know before our wedding?” Will raised his brows speculatively.

“No, merely curious as to whether or no you’ve given it thought,” Hannibal said, softly. “I’d rather be surprised.”

“I have a few thoughts, but you’ll have to wait,” Will grinned mischievously, and kissed Hannibal once.

Hannibal kissed Will back, sweetly. “I’m excited to see it,” he said, and nuzzled Will’s face. “Hopefully the shops on the island will suffice for your needs.”

“Hopefully they will. If not, well, I’ll figure something out.” Will was resourceful when he needed to be, and this he needed to be perfect.

“I’m sure you will,” Hannibal smiled. He was deeply curious about whatever it was that Will had planned, and he searched Will’s expression for clues.

Elusive as Will could be, he was even more so now. He returned Hannibal’s smile gently and pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Stop trying to read me.” “Something only an empath would say,” Hannibal laughed, and stroked his fingers over the side of Will’s face.

“Is it?” Will found himself leaning into every touch, as though he could not live any longer without it from Hannibal.

“At least with that level of smug pleasure,” Hannibal teased, enchanted by Will.

“You are hopelessly biased,” Will commented with sweetness lacing his tone for once, no remorse or contempt.

“It’s quite possible that I am, I won’t deny that, Will. Shall we explore the town? Perhaps view a listing or two?”

“Yes.” Will agreed, holding himself tighter against Hannibal for a moment and then let go, to finish getting ready to leave. The spot where Will had been and no longer was almost tingled with warmth as Will set about getting ready. “The sooner we decide upon a house, the sooner we can settle in with the dogs, comfortably. It will take some time to furnish a residence.”

“You want to keep both places? Or just move our things? Sell it all?” Will asked, putting his wallet into his back pocket, knife in his boot.

“I think selling it all would be best. The fewer connections between a new identity and an old identity, the better. Not to mention if we brought all of our furniture with us, that would seem strange considering our story of moving overseas.”

“Right,” Will agreed, shrugging his coat back on and running a hand through his hair, trying to fix an errant curl.

Hannibal stepped behind Will and fixed his hair for him, expertly. “Is there anything you will miss?”

“They were things. I’ve… left it all behind before.” Will shrugged his shoulders, pausing to let Hannibal fix his hair. “Thanks.”

“We have each other, and the dogs, of course. We can build again from there. I think the environment of our new home will be much different than the shell we will leave behind. We’ve grown beyond it.”

“That’s true. No more facades.” Will turned and took Hannibal’s hand, gazing at him. “I’m excited about this next step.”

“It’s been something I’ve wanted for a very long time,” Hannibal murmured. In moments like this, it still felt like he was dreaming.

“Then let’s go get the rest of our lives started.” Will offered his hand to Hannibal with a smile, leading them out to the truck, the dogs tired from their play in the water.

Hannibal smiled, almost shyly, and followed Will out to the truck. “Where do you imagine being married?”

“Shore,” Will replied, easily, and tossed Hannibal the keys, since he knew where they were headed.

“That would be beautiful,” Hannibal agreed. “I had considered the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea as especially significant.”

Hannibal got in and started the truck.

“That sounds good too.” Will buckled in, rubbing his palms over his thighs.

“This time, perhaps we can walk down from the edge?” Hannibal teased.

“You don’t want to go for another swim?” Will canted his head at Hannibal, brows raised with amusement. “No diving, I promise.”

“As exciting as it was, perhaps not on our wedding day,” Hannibal said with a smile as they pulled into the charming island town.

“No, of course not.” Will shook his head once, a coy smile barely there across his fine features.

“I will take that as an assurance that I can wear a nice suit without having it plunged into the Pacific,” Hannibal smiled.

“Very much so. I’ll… be wearing one, too,” Will said, resting his hand now on Hannibal’s thigh instead.

Hannibal’s thigh spread a little, closer to Will. “Oh?”

“Mhm. You get to pick it out though. I have terrible taste, according to my last husband,” Will replied with a coy grin and squeeze to the inside of Hannibal’s thigh.

Hannibal took a slow breath and sighed it out at the squeeze, and laughed at Will. “Your last husband sounds terrible.”

“Downright awful. Some say he was abusive, but…” Will shrugged his shoulders, elusively, and crept his fingers up Hannibal’s thigh.

“But you’ve moved on to me,” Hannibal chuckled, and sat back a little, thighs spreading. “Whatever became of him?”

“I think he fell into an ocean,” Will said with a nonchalant shrug.

“How tragic,” Hannibal said, as he found a parking space, and pulled into the spot. “My former husband met an untimely end as well.”

“Oh, how lucky for us both. Was he awful as well?” Will asked, giving Hannibal’s thigh one last squeeze before sliding out.

“Terrible to me, he barely looked at me, never touched me, ate all of my cooking and never a word of thanks.”

“Horrid.” Will shook his head sympathetically, and shut the truck door behind him.

Hannibal smiled as he climbed out, his grace incongruous with the truck itself, and joined Will. “It was quite an ordeal.”

“It’s over now,” Will said reaching out for Hannibal's hands. “You have me.”

“Thank goodness,” Hannibal murmured, and squeezed Will’s hand in his own as they strolled down the street, outside of colorful shops.

“I’ll never do that to you.” Will set his shoulders, watching a barber shop as they strolled past.

“I’m sure you’re nothing like him,” Hannibal chuckled, and followed Will’s gaze. “Are you craving change?”

“Maybe. I won’t cut my hair,” Will said, “not beyond what I usually do, but…”

“Your beard?” Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head. “I’ve grown fond of it.”

“You don’t think a nice clean shave would be interesting?” Will eyed Hannibal and then the store again, mostly his reflection in it. “I don’t… look different. I’m surprised people have recognized me. Or you,” he said, keeping his voice down and just between them.

“That much is true,” Hannibal reasoned. “I would hate to have to give up our home here before we’ve even found one.”

He examined his reflection in the window of the barber shop, trying to imagine what changes would disguise himself sufficiently without losing Will’s newly liberated interest in him.

“We can think about it,” Will said, not lingering too much longer on it as he offered his arm to Hannibal. “You’re foreign, you could do anything and most people will think it’s artistic or normal here.”

Hannibal laughed and took Will’s arm. “Eccentricity suits the artistic temperament.”

“I think it’ll work well for Armand,” Will whispered, leaning close to Hannibal as they walked away.

“In that case, I think I’ll have to purchase a few supplies for Armand’s first art installation,” Hannibal said with a little smile.

Brows raised, Will canted his head toward Hannibal. “Is Dave going to like this?”

“That remains to be seen. David may find it an acquired taste,” Hannibal smiled.

“Is that a challenge?” Will narrowed his eyes teasingly on his husband to be, and tugged him closer by the arm where it was looped with his own.

“A challenge?” Hannibal asked with a laugh and an arch of one eyebrow.

It always seemed to be something with them, but it kept things interesting. “How far are we willing to go for this?”

Hannibal smirked, his eyes sparkling playfully. “Shall we separate for a short time, and meet for lunch with our new identities in place?”

“You want to have wedding photos that are legit?” Will smirked, pausing a minute to turn to Hannibal and rested their foreheads together.

“Yes, of course, _legit_ ,” Hannibal said with a smirk. “Shall we meet again at the ‘Wolf In The Fog’ at noon?”

“Yes,” Will replied and leaned in a little more to kiss Hannibal. “And we’re making a deal now that we can’t get mad or upset at the other one.”

“I promise. We cannot be mad, or upset at each other for our creations,” Hannibal agreed and sealed the deal with a kiss to Will’s lips.

“I’ll meet you later then,” Will whispered, reluctant to let go of Hannibal, but they weren’t going too far.

“In two hours,” Hannibal nodded, and kissed Will again, softly, and took a long look at him before the face he loved was subjected to a disguise.

“Two hours.” Will finally let go and walked himself back to the barbershop.

Hannibal watched Will go with a sigh and then turned to walk to find what he needed to create an eccentric artist for Will to marry.

***

As promised, Will arrived two hours later the ‘Wolf In the Fog’, now with his hair trimmed and parted slightly differently, and only the perfectly trimmed and sculpted mustache of his full beard left behind, the rest clean shaven. He’d gotten rid of his dingy clothes and bought a nicer shirt and jeans, having promised Hannibal he could fit his attire for the new job he hoped to get.

The “Wolf In The Fog” was an upscale, but coastal pub near the coast filled with business casual diners and wealthy tourists. A very tall figure stepped into the pub in fitted jeans, motorcycle boots, a plaid, soft looking shirt with the first three buttons open, and a leather jacket on over his wide shoulders. Heads turned. Hannibal’s hair was long now, well past his shoulders, and the stubble he hadn’t shaved that morning was still there on his jaw, but somewhat sculpted into a controlled, fashionable scruff. His ashy hair was gathered into a low bun at the back of his head, and he attracted a fair number of female and male stares as he strode slowly through the tables, looking for Will. Will was seated closer to the bar at a private table, a glass of light beer set in front of him as he had waited for Hannibal to arrive, leaned over looking at it, people for once no longer paid him too much mind. When the gazes shifted to the door, Will watched Hannibal entered, his jaw dropping as he stood, pulling Hannibal’s chair out for him.

“Armand.”

“David,” Hannibal said with a smile as he looked Will over. Will looked … elegant. He looked old-fashioned and absolutely gentlemanly with his neatly trimmed mustache and combed hair. He was wearing a clean, pressed, neatly buttoned shirt and trousers with neat little shoes that Hannibal would have picked out himself for his old identity, if he had seen them.

“Look at you…”

“I only bought this outfit, since I promised you,” Will whispered close to Hannibal’s ear as he kissed his high cheekbone and pushed in his chair once he took a seat. The tables had turned, a little bit anyway.

Hannibal grinned widely, less careful of his imperfect teeth now, and sat down across from Will, staring at him in near-shock. “It’s perfect,” Hannibal said back, in a soft voice, unable to help but stare openly at Will. “You’re utterly gorgeous.”

A waiter cleared his throat from nearby and set three drinks down in front of Hannibal. “From the lady in the red blouse, from the gentlemen sitting on the second level, and from the young ladies in the booth.”

Will gave Hannibal a look and then looked at the waiter with raised brows and then the people he’d mentioned, with a nod, though not for him. “Please thank them for him, but he’s not interested and quite happily taken. And return the drinks to them, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Hannibal’s flush that started on his chest actually showed through his partially open shirt, and he shrugged helplessly at the waiter. “My fiance is a jealous man, but give them my thanks.” The waiter nodded, smirking, and set about to disappoint three tables at once.

Hannibal smirked at Will and slid his hand across the table to take Will’s, holding it in his own. “I removed my old ring, since we are engaged, and not married yet,” Hannibal explained, quietly.

“I suppose I owe you an engagement ring then,” Will whispered, his hand slipping into Hannibal’s, his ring also gone, but a tan line remained just the same.

“I’d say the sooner the better, considering the attention I’ll attract on a motorbike,” Hannibal laughed, and licked his lips, more than just intrigued by Will’s jealousy over the attention he drew.

Will rolled his shoulders back. “You bought a motorcycle?”

“I did,” Hannibal nodded. “I’m quite capable with them. It’s one of the many things I wished I could have shared with you in Europe.”

The idea of Hannibal in leather on a motorcycle in Europe made Will’s core heat with unexpected need. He shifted, reaching his free hand into his pocket, procuring a small velvet box. Inside was a ring, made of white porcelain china, from a teacup Will had brought and shattered and taken to the jeweler who did quick work for him while he shopped elsewhere. Throughout the ring was strands of gold, as if holding it together.

“Armand, will you marry me?” Will moved down to one knee in front of Hannibal, making a show of it, no matter how uncomfortable it made him.

Genuinely shocked, Hannibal watched as Will sank to one knee and proposed to him, in public, with what looked like a ring made of mended porcelain. He felt frozen for a moment and then took the ring, plucking it out of the box to look at it. Inside were two words: _I delight._ Disguise utterly forgotten, everything forgotten, Hannibal’s eyes blurred over with tears, and he had to bite his lower lip on the inside, overwhelmed as a tear streaked down, falling over his high cheekbone. “Yes-” he whispered, hands shaking as he pulled Will up to his feet to kiss him, deeply. His heart was pounding, and the room felt unsteady as people began to applaud for the happy couple.

One arm around Hannibal’s shoulders, Will kissed him back, taking the ring from his hand, he slipped it on his ring finger, claiming Hannibal as his own, even if they had already belonged to one another.

Hannibal’s hands rumpled Will’s neat shirt a little as they kissed. When their lips finally parted, he was still teary-eyed and surprised. He stared at Will, and kissed him again, more gently before they sat down again, flushed. “I … did not expect that today.”

Breath shaking as he let it out slowly, Will smiled, nodding. “I know. That’s why I did it.”

Hannibal shook his head, and leaned over the table to cup Will’s face in both hands, then kissed him again, adoringly. He was still shaking, and his throat was tight with emotion every time he caught a glimpse of his ring. “You’ve always been able to surprise me,” he whispered, against Will’s lips.

“That’s why you love me,: Will whispered back, enjoying their intimacy, and being able to surprise Hannibal like this, instead of some sort of heartbreak or imprisonment.

Hannibal wiped his cheek and had to look away for a moment, to collect himself with a deep breath as he thought of the inscription inside the ring. “One of the many, many reasons,” he whispered, and looked at Will again, still flushed all over with happiness. “How in the world did you have this ring made?”

“A very convinced jeweler,” Will said with a smile. “I bought a teacup and smashed it, and then asked him to put it back together in a ring, with gold. I did the rest of my shopping and he had it done.”

Hannibal looked at his ring and then had to look away again, and then up, sniffling a little, to his own dismay. He collected himself and looked at Will when he was able to speak. “As long as we live, as many lives as he have. I _refuse_ to wear another ring.”

“Good. I’m settled on you. I’m not going anywhere.” Will pressed their hands palm to palm, fingers twining together.

Hannibal kissed Will’s knuckles, and smiled, almost shyly. “I am having your ring made. It will be ready in two days. For once, I think my gift-giving is utterly outmatched by your own.”

“That doesn’t matter. You didn't even have to get me a ring.” Will watched Hannibal, utterly away of those around them, watching, eavesdropping.

“Of course I do. You’re very dashing, I can’t have you stolen away,” Hannibal purred, and smiled at his fiance. It was real this time. Hannibal had been married for the purpose of disguise twice, but there had never been a proposal. This was real.

“No one’s looking at me when they’re looking at you.” Will smiled a little more as he leaned forward to kiss Hannibal once more, swallowing down the unease of being in public.

Hannibal kissed Will as the waiter put a bottle of champagne on the table for them and two glasses. “From the management, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Will said to the waiter, giving him a fleeting glance, and then his attention was back on Hannibal. “Shall we?”

“Yes, of course,” Hannibal agreed, and opened the champagne, then poured some in a glass and offered it to Will. “Do you know what you want, David?”

Will licked his lips as he took a glass. “I could think of a few things,” he said, over the rim of the glass, eyes sultry and on Hannibal. Then, he set the glass down and looked over the menu.

“Choose something for me, David,” Hannibal purred as he looked over Will, eyes lingering on the dapper, buttoned-up way Will had concealed himself

The waiter returned and Will ordered himself the rockfish and Hannibal the baked lamb, with the chili squid and pork jowl to start. Will handed the menus back. “Was that acceptable? Should I get used to ordering for you?”

Hannibal chuckled and leaned closer to Will, admiring him. “I think I enjoy watching you take charge of things, David.”

“Do you?” Will asked with another sip of his drink, licking his lips.

“There’s something about it that I find intriguing,” he smirked, and touched Will’s mustache with one finger. “You look so strict.”

“Teacherly?” Will smiled when Hannibal touched the weird, and yet growing on him, mustache.

“More like a stern headmaster,” Hannibal said, his voice thick with innuendo.

Will raised one brow, curiously. “I don’t think I’ll get _that_ position.”

“You could with me,” Hannibal said, with a smirk.

Will flushed a little, most of it hidden under his tightly buttons shirt. “Have… have you been naughty, Armand?”

Hannibal licked his lips and sipped his champagne, which was actually not bad at all. “You haven’t seen the bike yet, have you? It’s quite a thing to have between my thighs.”

“How could I have?” Will took a long sip to distract himself, only imagining having himself between Hannibal’s thighs instead.

“Perhaps you can ride behind me on the way home today,” Hannibal teased, and let their legs touch under the table.

“Are we selling the truck?” Will asked, wondering if he’d have to punish Hannibal anyway for having already done so.

“That was always the plan, was it not?” Hannibal asked, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“For a motorcycle?” Will asked, a little more specific.

“Yes,” Hannibal said, with a little smile. “I got a very good price for it.”

Will hummed and finished the glass of champagne he had and then poured more. “Then I guess I have no choice but to ride behind you.”

Hannibal smirked and licked his lips at the thought. “You’ll have to hold on very tightly.”

“I plan to. Just don’t bump me off somewhere along the way,” Will chuckled this time. “Will we go house hunting with it?”

“It’s a beautiful day, I don’t see why not,” Hannibal said. “I already have two or three places in mind.”

“So it is,” Will said with a little smile, putting it all behind him for now, no use getting upset over the truck they were going to discard anyway.

Their dishes arrived, and Hannibal thanked the waiter as they picked up their forks. “I think you chose well, David.”

“You’ll have to let me know how you like the lamb,” Will said with a coy look, and then cut into the sea bass, taking a bite of the flakey fish.

Hannibal smiled at that, and took a bite of the lamb, chewing thoughtfully before he swallowed. “Nearly as good as homemade.”

“Good to know.” Will reached over and forked a bite, sneakily, and tried it.

“Cannibalism, David?” Hannibal teased and stole a bite of Will’s fish.

“Armand,” Will said with a look and willingly let Hannibal have a bite of his dish-- it was only fair.

“Your hair does look like fleece first thing in the morning, when it’s not been tended to,” Hannibal murmured, proudly.

“Very cute,” Will said with a stern look. “Do you like the new cut?”

“I do, it’s quite old-fashioned,” Hannibal said with a smile. “You could easily pass for a gentleman of the 1920s.”

“I thought something a little different that can be styled ways I don’t usually might be nice.” Will took another bite and sip of water. “I’m sure my husband to be won’t mind helping me.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t,” Hannibal said and fed another bite of lamb to Will as a strand of long, ashy hair escaped the loose bun and fell into his eyes.

Will watched in silence, and then reached over to tuck it back. “You are far too attractive like this.”

Hannibal laughed aloud and smiled at Will. “Am I? I was afraid you’d hate it.”

“There is… a lot of appeal to it I didn’t know I’d like,” Will murmured and downed his glass of champagne.

“I have been told several times that I could pass for someone from a Nordic country, I thought perhaps, it may be best to adopt that heritage,” Hannibal said below his breath, to Will.

“Good idea. Is Armand still a good name?” Will replying in the same manner and then ordered a whiskey when the waiter stopped a second.

“Armand is a little more southern European. Perhaps Sven? Mathias? Tyr, or Erik?” Hannibal asked, softly as he considered an appropriate name for his new identity.”

“Any of them work.” Will gave a shrug, he quite liked Armand, but if it wasn’t suitable, they could say it was his middle name. “Mathias Armand?”

“I think it may be too late to make a change, given what Chiyoh is working on,” Hannibal mused, still gazing at Will with intense interest.

“We’ll say you had very… different parents,” Will murmured with a smile as he pushed his plate aside, done. “I think Armand is fitting.”

“I do like the sound of it,” Hannibal said, and did the same, then sipped his champagne, again, and took Will’s hand over the table.

Will’s mustache twitched a little as his lips curled up into a soft smile, squeezing Hannibal’s hand. “Armand and David still sound nice?”

“I am rather attached to Armand and David,” Hannibal smiled. His newly long hair made his features look even more exotic than they did with short hair, his cheekbones higher, eyes warmers and more sly.

“Me too.” Will put cash down for their meal and then stood, offering Hannibal his arm, gallantly. “Shall we?”

“Of course,” Hannibal said, and stared at his ring for a moment before he took Will’s arm, and headed out with him, elated. He walked with Will to a sleek, black bike very similar to the model he’d taken in France, and straddled it before he started it up, then looked at Will. “Have you ever ridden before?”

“A very long time ago,” Will answered as he grasped Hannibal’s shoulders and straddled in behind him, holding his waist. “I was sixteen.”

“Alone?” Hannibal asked, as he backed the bike up, and then started down the street with a roar of the engine.

Will leaned in close as he held on, his newly styled hair blowing in the wind they made. “It belonged to a friend of my dad’s, and they were both passed out drunk in the living room. So, I… took it for a joy ride.”

Hannibal smiled at that as he sped up, leaning into the corner they took. He loved the feeling of Will clinging to him when he did. “Did you like it?” Hannibal asked, over his shoulder, before speeding up again. Most of his words were lost in the wind and noise, but he was sure Will could guess at what he said.

“Yes.” Will held on tighter, fingers white as he grasped Hannibal’s middle, face against his neck. It was long ago, but he remembered it well enough.

Hannibal smiled at the feeling and the way their bodies fit together on the bike as they sped over a hill and a bridge, and then pulled back into the resort. He parked the bike outside of the cabin, and could already hear the dogs barking at the sound of the strange motor.

“It’s much more enjoyable a ride with your behind me,” Hannibal said, smirking at Will over his shoulder.

Will hugged Hannibal to him once, and then got off the bike first, straightening his shirt. “Get the dogs fed and everything, and then out to look at properties?”

“That sounds lovely,” Hannibal said as he got off of the bike, and pulled the elastic out of his hair to shake it loose before he tied it up again.

Will took pause as he watched Hannibal, jaw shifting. “Keep this up and it won’t happen at all.” Will unlocked the door and let the dogs run out to relieve themselves.

Hannibal arched an eyebrow, and unzipped the leather jacket he wore as he stepped closer to Will, his hair still loose, past his shoulders. “Is that a threat, David?”

“You’ve been very naughty to today. What’s to be done about that?” Will asked, chest heaving under his shirt that was almost a little too small across his chest, buttons straining.

Hannibal stepped closer and clicked the button that covered Will’s throat undone. “A very good question. What, precisely, have I done?”

“What _haven’t_ you done?” Will whispered, leaned up against the open door as Hannibal moved in closer, like a cougar on its prey.

“I did sell your truck,” Hannibal said. “To be fair, you hardly look like the type to drive a truck now.”

“I don’t look the type to drive a motorcycle either,” Will pointed out, reaching to touch Hannibal’s waist, roving fingers up his sides, untucking his shirt as he went. “I keep discovering new...likes with you.”

“What have you discovered today?” Hannibal asked as he strummed his fingers down the neat line of white buttons that held Will’s shirt closed over his chest.

“That I really like you in leather,” Will murmured, eyes flitting almost nervously over Hannibal’s close up form, and then to his lips, his nose, his eyes once more, his own dark lust blown ones meeting darkened amber.

“I think Armand the artist will wear quite a bit of it,” Hannibal whispered, as he brushed his lips over Will’s, and ran both hands over his hips.

Will breathed out slowly, so used to seeing Hannibal button uptight and perfectly made over that seeing him like this made him instantly hard with want. “David won’t mind coming home to that…” he whispered against his lips.

“I had no idea,” Hannibal whispered, as he ran his palm over the impressive bulge in Will’s trousers. He was gloriously rough and undone like this, and looked nearly as wild on the surface as he was beneath.

“I didn’t either.” Will pulled Hannibal closer by his open shirt and kissed him hard and rough, the whiskers of his mustache brushing against their upper lips.

Hannibal kissed back, hungrily, and hummed into Will’s mouth at the commanding way he was yanked closer and kissed. Hannibal undid Will’s crisp shirt with a moan, trying his best to be careful with the expensive, pearly buttons.

“Hold on-” Will managed, slipping out from under Hannibal against the door. He called the dogs in and then shut the door. Better now then to forget before they went completely undone.

The dogs raced in, Winston herding Xena in. Once they were all inside, Hannibal shut the door and kissed Will up against it, again, picking up where they left off. Will groaned, pulling Hannibal to him and undoing the rest of his shirt, and then his hands spread down over his leather-clad hips.

Hannibal pushed Will to the small dining table, and into a chair, then straddled Will’s narrow hips as he peeled his shirt off. “I would have worn leather years ago if I had known you’d love it.”

Will gazed up at Hannibal, undoing his leather pants with deft fingers. “Surprised for us both.”

“I wore leather in Europe,” Hannibal whispered, as he peeled Will’s shirt off of his shoulders, and bit his earlobe.

“Must’ve been how you met the poet. What was his name? Dimmond?” Will’s sharp blue eyes met Hannibal’s with a knowing, piercing gaze, wolfishly.

Hannibal paused, frozen, for a moment. “Dimmond?”

“I read Bedelia’s book. She didn’t mention the leathers specifically, but I imagine tromping around Europe similar to this, you must’ve turned heads.”

Hannibal gave his jealous fiance a look and tilted his head. “You are aware that the only time I touched Dimmond was to dismember his body?”

“That hardly means you weren’t tempted. We went years with never touching intimately.” Will wasn’t about to ruin the mood completely, but his jealousy was a dangerous and raging thing that coiled in his chest hopelessly now as it had when he read about Dimmond in Bedelia’s book.

Hannibal touched Will’s chest with both hands, softly, and leaned closer, to kiss Will’s jaw. “He offered. I killed him, skinned him, and folded his corpse into the love letter I left for you in the chapel.”

The words didn’t sting as Will thought they might, instead they burned into his heart, which fluttered under Hannibal’s palms, eyes closed. “That’s who that was?”

“He looked remarkably like you, but the similarities between your faces, your hair, only made me miss you more intensely. I resented and detested every difference between you, every moment in which he reminded me that I no longer had you.”

“Promise me no more Dimmonds. Just us.” Will wasn’t sure his jealousy could tame itself should someone like that come between them, show Hannibal attention and have his soon to be husband show it back. He’d kill him.

Hannibal nodded and nuzzled Will’s face and his own together. “I promise, Will. No one except you. I am yours.”

Will tugged Hannibal closer by the hips and held over his groin, roughly. “Good.”

Hannibal ground down against Will, slowly. He swallowed when he felt Will still hard under him. “You are alluring when jealous, Will.”

“Why is that?” Will held Hannibal to his erection, pressing up with his heels to grinding back, creating sweet friction.

“I’ve always been drawn to your passion,” Hannibal moaned, his bare chest heaving as he undid Will’s trousers.

Will shrugged his shirt off to the ground and then lifted his hips to remove his pants. “One way or another?”

Hannibal moved off of Will’s lap and knelt on the floor between his legs to peel Will’s pants off, slowly. “Anyway I can get it.”

Will’s hands rested in Hannibal’s newly long hair extensions, grasping it for sturdiness. “I like this.”

“I’ll grow it out, then, completely,” Hannibal whispered, as he nuzzled Will’s thighs, breathing against his balls.

Will kicked off his pants and shoes all at once and spread his firm, tanned thighs wide for Hannibal inching closer to can his hips up. “It could be a good look for you.”

Hannibal breathed against Will’s cock, and licked the shaft, slowly. “Enough for you to grab…”

“Yeah. I like it.” Will hitched his hips forward, biting the inside of his lip with anticipation. He wrenched his fingers in the longer strands, holding him just there.

Hannibal groaned softly at the feeling of Will wresting control from him. He used his tongue, deftly, and pulled the head of Will’s cock into his mouth with a hum.

Will desperately wanted to push his cock in further, but let Hannibal have the lead, for now, easing his fingers, unclenching a little.

“That’s…”

Hannibal moaned and hollowed his cheeks around the tip of Will’s cock, while he flexed his hands over Will’s thighs, kneading them slowly. Will groaned, grasping the side of the chair instead, and pressed his feet flat into the floor to pushed his cock further in finally.

Hannibal’s moan was choked off by the press of Will’s cock in the back of his throat. He held it there a second, and sank down around Will again, keeping everything slow and sensual as he rolled Will’s balls in one hand.

“Hannibal-” Will managed once, the name broken over his tone as he pushed in further, watching his lover’s face as his flushed, and sweat formed on his perfect brow.

Hannibal began to bob his head slowly in a steady, maddening rhythm, letting his tongue flicker over the head of Will’s cock at the top while the muscles of his shoulders and branded back flexed.

Will reached forward and ran his fingers down over the brand, swearing he’d fix this someday, but right now all he wanted was to have Hannibal in his lap. “C’mere and ride me.”

Hannibal pulled his reddened mouth off of Will, his eyes lit to the color of cognac as he stood and straddled Will’s lap, reaching for the bag with the lube, he slicked himself. Hannibal cupped Will’s jaw and kissed him with friction-swollen lips, then rubbed against the slick tip of Will’s cock with the cleft of his ass until he felt Will against his entrance. “I do love that we take turns commanding one another,” Hannibal rasped.

His head fell back, jaw dropping open as he eased himself down, slowly, accepting Will’s well-lubricated cock a little at a time, his body tight and furnace-hot around him.

“I don’t think we could be any other way,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s mouth, hands on his hips, easing him down and over his cock, hand squeezing his ass as they never stopped gazing at one another.

Hannibal stared at Will as he sank down, around him, hands on Will’s bare shoulders. He took Will’s cock all the way inside him, and stayed like that for a moment, just breathing. “I don’t think we could,” Hannibal agreed, and rocked slowly, up and down, his hand lost in Will’s combed straight hair.

All other thought seemed to escape Will as he gazed at Hannibal, mouth dropped open as his tight heat enveloped Will. Fingers squeezed around his hips, Will held him tight. “You’re so tight…”

“You’re thick,” Hannibal whispered, as he rocked down over Will, his entire muscular body flexing and starting to sweat.

Will shuddered at that, his body shaking as he pushed up into Hannibal while pulling him down over his cock, burying himself deep inside of him. Hannibal rested their faces together for a moment, intimately as they undulated and writhed, their bodies moving together like they were one being. “Will-” he rasped and scraped his nails over WIll’s back.

“Mm,” Will hummed as they breathed, wrapping his arms around Hannibal’s back, keeping him there as he thrust himself up inside of him, heat pooling in his thighs.

Hannibal gasped with pleasure when his body jerked and clenched his hand in Will’s hair, harder. “Fuck, Will,” he moaned, able to feel that spot in his spine begin to burn and tingle.

Whenever Hannibal swore, Will fucked him harder. Something about hearing it escape Hannibal’s lips drove Will to want to hear more of it. “Hannibal-” he managed, groaning out his name as the fire spread through his core, threateningly.

Hannibal gasped when Will fucked him like that, hammering into him almost desperately. He tugged on Will’s hair, and felt his toes curl, hard, then bit Will’s right shoulder as he began to come, moaning against Will’s flesh.

Will held Hannibal down as he fucked up into his hand, his cock squeezed and wrenched deep inside of the other as Will started to come, the heat spreading and bursting. “Hannibal-!”

“Fuck,” Hannibal swore, as he came, against Will’s stomach, coating it as he came in bursts, and then slumped over Will, breathing hard against Will’s neck.

“I… love you,” Will breathed slowly, catching his breath, holding Hannibal to him.

Hannibal felt loose-limbed and tingled all over as he closed his eyes at Will’s words. “Despite the loss of your truck?”

“Despite the loss of the truck. I know we’ll get another car, it’s fine,” Will whispered, knowing a truck for a teacher was not applicable.

“Something more suitable for your new, very dapper identity,” Hannibal whispered and smoothed Will’s hair down.

“What do you suggest?” Will had no real knowledge aside from Hannibal in all this.

“Something sensible and classic. A range rover, perhaps,” Hannibal reasoned, nuzzling and kissing Will’s sweaty skin between words.

Will chuffed, eyes lighting as he gazed at Hannibal up close, utterly and almost brokenly in love. “Range Rover? I’ve never even looked into those.”

“Large enough for the dogs, certainly. Well built,” Hannibal said as he ran a hand over Will’s shoulders and gazed back at him the same way.

“We will need a big car for the dogs,” Will commented, resting their faces together. “We can worry about that later.”

“Of course. Shall we share a bath?” Hannibal asked as he got up, slowly.

“Yes.” Will was sweaty and sticky against Hannibal. He slapped his ass and nipped at his chin.

Hannibal smiled and laughed, then looked at his own slapped ass. “Your mustache has a personality all its own, Will.”

“You did say you needed to be punished.” Will rubbed his palm over the reddening spot he’d slapped, growing more and more relaxed with Hannibal, easily able to be himself.

Hannibal laughed, and pulled Will closer, to kiss him again, both hands cupping his face. “Punishing me properly could be a lengthy project.”

“It is because pain doesn’t seem to work on you,” Will laughed with a hearty grin, showing off his _almost_ perfect teeth against Hannibal’s lips, hands on his hips. “Let’s get that bath.”

“As Mason discovered, no, physical pain doesn’t have the same effect on me as it may on most,” Hannibal said, and stretched, able to feel the edges of the brand fold in on itself as his muscles flexed.

Will ran his fingers over it slowly, feeling the raised edges of the brand. “We could get it removed or covered up…”

“The brand has likely been released as a unique identifying feature, in my case. Having it seen, even by a doctor, may lead to our identification and capture,” Hannibal said with a little sigh and looked at Will as he touched the edges of the scar. It had hurt, of course, to the point that Hannibal had needed to retreat into his mind while it was inflicted upon him.

“I… I mean, I could do something,” Will offered, he wasn’t a bad welder, it couldn’t be hard to brand over the brand and make it wholly different.

“Something?” Hannibal asked, with interest in his dark eyes as he brushed long hair out of his face. His newly wild and long hair would take some getting used to.

Will took the holder off from around Hannibal’s wrist and scooped up his long hair for him, typing it back into a loose bun as they gazed at him. “I’m not really the most artistic. You’ve seen my clock…However, I’m willing to try.”

Surprised, Hannibal laughed and blushed a little as Will gathered his hair up for him. “You’d like to re-brand me?”

“I’d make you _mine_ in every way.” Will smiled with a cant of his head, a little nervous about the notion, that it’d be Hannibal skin he was burning when he’d never so much as ever laid a finger on him.

Something dark and hungry bloomed in Hannibal’s eyes at the thought, and he smoothed Will’s hair down for him. “I’d enjoy that, Will, very much. The only question is, with what would you brand me?”

“I don’t know. I’ll figure something out.” Will leaned in and kissed Hannibal and then gently guided him off his lap for the bath.

“If you know something you’d like, I’d be happy to design it with you,” Hannibal said, and chuckled as he stood again, and pulled Will to his feet. “Perhaps one of your clocks.”

“I don’t think my clock could cover this,” Will said and touched it again with his hand as he smiled up close at Hannibal. “A rebrand might just make it looked muddled.”

“It could if most of the brand is a flat, smooth circle,” Hannibal reasoned, “and the previous brand was burned away.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Will nodded and moved them toward the tub, bare feet padding across the wood floors.

Hannibal smiled, and walked to the tub, then bent over to fill it. “Will branding my flesh with the mark of the illness I allowed to grow in you make us nearly even, Will?”

Will watched Hannibal’s back flex, and his ass, too, standing there behind him, staring. “I don’t know. Will it?”

“That’s a question I cannot answer for you, Will,” Hannibal said as he looked over his shoulder, and stood to face Will.

“Do you think it makes us even?” Will asked, rearrange how he worded it.

“I think that it certainly evens the score,” Hannibal reasoned. “It will be very painful.”

“Okay then.” Will slipped around Hannibal and down into the tub first and then offered his hand to help him in.

Hannibal smiled at Will’s gallantry, and took his hand to climb into the tub, then sat in front of Will, leaning back against his chest, happily. “A shame that you cannot brand it smooth, and then have your design tattooed over the scar.”

“Nothing says we can’t once it heals back,” Will whispered, holding Hannibal to him, enjoying their shared intimacy, glad for the fact neither of them minded trades roles.

Hannibal smiled to himself as he clasped his hand over Will’s arms where they crossed his chest.

“I’ve always liked working with flesh and blood as my canvas,” he mused, softly. “I’d be unable to tattoo myself, there.”

“I could do it. Don’t some use tracing paper and stick them on? I’d just have to trace it, right?” Will had no idea, he’d only ever seen one tattoo get done in his life on his dad.

“I’m certain I could teach you,” Hannibal reasoned with a little smile at the thought. Even if the tattoo contained imperfections, they would be imperfections Will branded him with.

“I’d like that.” Will rubbed his hand over Hannibal’s heart, sighing with contentment.

Hannibal closed his eyes with a smile and looked back at Will. “Perhaps Armand is a tattoo artist,” he mused.

“Really?” Will canted his head slightly, eyes narrowed. “So you’d have clients…”

“We could find a house with an attached studio. Yes, I would have clients,” Hannibal said and looked at Will, eyebrow raised.

Will was silent in his brooding over the fact his very handsome husband to be wanted to tattoo other people who would then see him alone for hours. “If… that’s what you want to do.”

“Are you already jealous, Will?” Hannibal asked, as he reached back to touch Will’s jaw, which was somehow already growing scruff over it.

“No,” was the reply, short and even, from Will.

Hannibal turned in Will’s lap, carefully, and kissed him. “If I were a physician, I would have to see and perform procedures upon the same bodies, Will.”

“When you were a doctor, you didn’t look like this,” Will sighed, admitting his jealousy second handedly.

Hannibal touched Will’s lower lip with one finger and then kissed him, tenderly. “When I was a doctor, I was never married to you in the way that I am now, or will be, soon.”

“You like the attention,” Will murmured quietly against Hannibal’s lips. “Married or not.”

“I like _your_ attention,” Hannibal corrected, and wet his hands, then cupped water to wet Will’s hair for him as he turned to straddle him again, in the bath. “It’s been all I’ve wanted for nearly a decade, Will.”

“Is it enough?” Will asked the worry of being abandoned and left behind was always present in the back of Will’s mind. He leaned his head back a little to let the water drip down.

“So long as I have your admiration, Will,” Hannibal murmured, as he wet Will’s hair and began to wash it for him. “I have no need for anyone else’s.”

Suddenly, Will was feeling the stress of moving and a new life. He liked when they slid under the radar when no one really noticed them. “Okay…” Hannibal used his long fingers to massage Will’s scalp slowly, working shampoo into his hair. “I have been utterly obsessed with you for years, Will. I am hardly about to stop now.”

Will had been left once, he didn’t put past some to do it again and again. He was insecure in that but didn’t say anything. “I know.”

“My darling Will,” Hannibal whispered against Will’s lips and began to massage Will’s neck. “I have never been happier. I would sooner drive my fist through the Primavera than I would destroy what we have now.”

“Are you an empath now?” Will asked against Hannibal’s mouth, sighing softly as he relaxed under Hannibal’s ministrations.

“My methods are more analytical but nearly as accurate as your own,” Hannibal whispered.

“What’s the point of my empathy then?” Will huffed, but not unkindly. He was still worried about Hannibal’s chosen profession.

“Perhaps it would best be used to imagine how very unlikely it would be for an interested party to win me from you,” Hannibal pointed out as he began to rinse the mint and sage shampoo from Will’s hair, which had sprung up, into curls again.

“I don’t even want to look at someone knowing they make… googly eyes at you,” Will sighed, well aware how Hannibal must have felt, but Will never put effort into his looks, except for Hannibal.

“We’ll have to make it well known that I have a very jealous, very capable husband who won’t tolerate anyone making eyes at me: googly, or otherwise,” Hannibal said, and found the conditioner to smooth into Will’s hair. He couldn’t help but cherish knowing that Will hated the thought of anyone stealing Hannibal’s attention away from him after Hannibal had worked for so long to make Will find him interesting.

Their shared darkness had helped Will to finally see it, and now their bond was bigger than ever. “That won’t stop them.”

“Then I will,” Hannibal promised Will, and nuzzled Will’s face with his own, then massaged Will’s right shoulder while it was partially submerged in hot water.

Will groaned a little with that, wincing. “I trust you.”

Hannibal rubbed Will’s shoulder a little more slowly, working inward. “Even if you do not yet, you will.”

“I trust you, not other people.” Will gripped the side of the tub with his other hand as Hannibal’s fingers worked the knotted tendons and muscle.

“I won’t encourage anyone’s attention,” Hannibal promised, and worked his way down Will’s arm, admiring it as he massaged the muscles there.

“Thank you.” Will’s arm flexed with each touch, well toned from all his work in the garage.

“I imagine you will garner your own share of attention, Will,” Hannibal murmured, working thoroughly and carefully.

“Not many into mustaches,” Will chuckled, gazing up at Hannibal’s handsome face, unable to believe they’d come this far.

“I like it, quite a bit,” Hannibal told Will as he stroked his fingers over it, and leaned in to kiss Will. “You look very refined.”

“Refined was what I was going for,” Will murmured against Hannibal’s lips, eyes half closed.

“You’re devastatingly handsome,” Hannibal purred, and massaged Will’s hand now, keeping it against his own chest.

“Glad you think so.” Will smiled a little, stealing small kisses from Hannibal as his fingers curled and flexed.

“You look dashing, how did you manage to tame your curls?” Hannibal asked, softly and fondly. He smiled at the small kisses, thrilled with the little bits of intimacy between them.

“The barber put something on it. Gave me a name for the product if I want to go get some,” Will explained quietly, spreading his palm over Hannibal’s chest.

“As much as I adore your curls, you are well disguised with straight, sleek hair,” Hannibal admitted, and kissed Will’s temple, softly.

“Straight for work, clean and unkempt for home?” Will asked, raising a curious brow at him.

“I’d like that,” Hannibal murmured, and nipped his teeth at the lower curve of Will’s rosy lip. “I would miss your curls too much.”

“Then they stay,” Will answered, mouth dropped slightly as Hannibal did.

Hannibal hummed and kissed Will a little more deeply when Will’s mouth dropped open, utterly enchanted with him. “Thank you, Will.”

“Oh, you’re so very welcome,” Will replied as he pressed up into the kiss.

They kissed, slowly, lost in one another, broken only by the sound of paws against the side of the tub, and then teeth nibbling at Will’s fingers where they rested on the side of the tub. Xena was awake and looking for attention.

Will chuckled against Hannibal’s mouth before pulling away and looking at Xena. “I think it’s time to get out.”

Hannibal looked down at Xena, and sighed, then kissed Will again, and bent back to pull the plug on the tub. “Shall we tire them out and then visit a few open houses?”

“Yes,” Will said and stood, taking a towel for himself. “I'll need your help with my hair.”

“You helped me with mine,” Hannibal smiled, admiring Will’s form with a sigh as he climbed out of the white tub.

“I tied it up.” Will got out after Hannibal and wrapped a towel around his hips.

Xena stretched up, paws on Will’s leg, and licked at the water droplets on his skin, then whimpered to be picked up and held. “Yours should barely be more difficult,” Hannibal reasoned, as he wrapped a towel around his own hips, letting the fabric gap a little over his thigh.

Will bent and scooped her up, fur sticking to his wet chest as he did. “I guess we should invest in some of that hair stuff.”

Hannibal nodded and found a comb he’d used earlier this morning, and some of his own hair product. He began to comb some of it through Will’s hair and picked up the dryer. “I think I can make your hair look somewhat more sleek than usual until then,” he said, happy to finally be allowed to fuss over Will as he’d always wanted to.

Will let Hannibal attend to him while he pet Xena, and she tried to bite at the hair from the hair dryer. “You’ll do better than I will.”

“You did fairly well when you tried,” Hannibal reminded Will. “I was well and truly bewitched by you when you resumed your therapy with me.”

“Oh, I’m more than aware,” Will gave Hannibal a look, eyes meeting his with a soft smile. “I had it styled purposely to attract you.”

“You were both the bait, and the fisherman,” Hannibal murmured as he used the dryer and comb to style Will’s dark hair so that it lay much more sleekly than usual, glossy and heavy looking. “I was your catch.”

“The whole package,” Will said, rubbing one of Xena’s ears as she barked at the air.

Xena tilted her round head into Will’s hand, and closed her eyes, happily when Will rubbed her ear and some of the hot air from the dryer blew her blond fur a little. “I had, decidedly, met my match.” Hannibal shut off the dryer, and set it aside to smooth Will’s hair for him, using a little argan oil to bring out its natural luster. “Certainly not as perfectly smooth as this morning, but still a far cry from your distinctive fleece.”

“Is it fine now?” Will said with a look, still stuck on that lamb comment. Finally, he let Xena down and took the towel off his hips to dry the rest of himself.

“Much more sleek,” Hannibal said and watched Will, distracted as he put the hair things away.

“Thank you.” Will hung the towel back up to dry, leaning in to kiss Hannibal once on the mouth, and then padded out with Xena at his feet to find his clothes.

With a sigh, Hannibal dried himself off, and then felt as though he nearly floated after Will once he checked his reflection in the mirror. Once there, Hannibal pulled his tight-fitting jeans back on over long legs, and stole one of Will’s old plaid shirts from Will’s bag. “Do you have any requirements for a home?”

Will eyed Hannibal carefully before putting his own shirt and trousers back on, slipping into the loafers that weren’t comfortable in the least. “No,” he said, aware that his old wardrobe was now up for grabs with Hannibal.

Hannibal rolled the sleeves of the soft shirt up over his forearms, and left the first three buttons undone, letting the shirt hang loosely over the waist of his jeans, then looked over at Will. “None at all?”

“So long as it’s pet proof,” Will explained, doing up his collar to the very last buttons, effectively closing himself off to the world. He fixed his mustache and put on his belt.

Hannibal shook a loose strand of ashy hair from his face and stepped closer to smooth a hand over Will’s shirt as he gazed at him up close. “And near enough to the water that you can steal away at a moment’s notice to fish. A fenced area to keep the dogs safe from large predators on the island. Good light, but not so much that you keep the curtains drawn all the time. A view, especially from the bedroom. You fall asleep best when you can gaze outside at something without a trace of human touch, like an animal taken from its cradle of the wilderness too young.”

Will stared at Hannibal as he spoke, never more aware of their connection and how well they knew each other. It was endearing and creepy, but that summed up their relationship for years, only now they were on the same level. “Why ask then?”

“I was curious,” Hannibal said with a playful little smirk as he shook his long hair out, and admired his new ring for a moment. “I wanted to know how much thought you’d given to the house, but then again, you’ve been busy.”

“I’ve been working on other things,” Will said with a look of his own and touched Hannibal’s hair with a little sigh. “I’m sure I’ll know a good place when we see it.”

Hannibal handed Will his hair tie, smiling a little. He enjoyed having Will’s hands in his hair. “What I require from a house is a somewhat more lengthy list.”

“Then I guess we go with what works for you and then see if it works for all of us,” Will commented thoughtfully and took the band, and then stood behind Hannibal. He tugged the strands into his hands and pulled it tight a few times before wrapping the band and then putting it in as neat a bun as he could manage.

“One of my requirements is that the house meets your requirements, Will,” Hannibal said, as Will knotted his hair back and up. “In addition, I’d like a large kitchen, hardwood flooring, and high ceilings with passable design.”

“I don’t think that will be hard to find, especially if we aren’t worried about the cost,” Will explained and wrapped on arm around Hannibal’s chest, holding him back against his own solid one.

“We aren’t,” Hannibal smiled, and looked back at Will, adoringly. “I called the hospital and gave my notice.”

“I’m sure they are disappointed to see you go,” Will smiled back and squeezed Hannibal once before letting go completely to find his jacket.

“They are,” Hannibal said, with a little smile, and pulled his leather jacket on, then donned his leather boots. “With my accumulated vacation time that I must take before being formally discharged, we do not technically have to return.”

“No papers to sign?” Will asked, pulling on some gloves this time since his fingers were cold the last motorcycle trip back.

“One or two, but I’ve arranged for our mail to be forwarded to a mail forwarding service out of Toronto. It will be very difficult for anyone to track from there,” Hannibal assured his husband. “The house could be sold fully furnished, if you’d like. Chiyoh can bring our personal items to us. I’d like for her to see me alive and well, here.”

“She doesn’t know already that you are?” Will narrowed his gaze on Hannibal slightly at any insinuation that Will would harm Hannibal the way Chiyoh seemed to think he would.

“Knowing and seeing are two different things,” Hannibal said, as he opened the door for them both, and the dogs got up to race outside to stretch their legs. “Besides, I thought perhaps it would be nice to have her visit our new home. Chiyoh is the only member of what I consider my living family with whom I am still in contact.”

“She doesn’t like me.” Will stepped out and watched after the dogs as they bound on to the beach once more to explore before being put back inside for a bit longer.

“Chiyoh is rarely a warm person, not effusive with compliments or praise,” Hannibal said and looked at Will as he crouched to encourage Poptart to play with a little knotted tug toy. “Does that remind you of anyone you know, Will?”

“Just because we’re close to the same, doesn’t mean we’ll get along, in fact, those who are similar rarely do,” Will pointed out. Will had dealt with Chiyoh for months after the fall into the Atlantic to help transport and move them, and then before that at Lecter Castle, the ride to Italy, for the most part. Will was in no rush to see her.

“I’m not suggesting at all that you will become the closest of friends, merely suggesting an underlying reason for the conflict between you,” Hannibal said, as he tugged on the other end of the toy, then chuckled as Xena helped Poptart against him.

Will canted his head with another look and then shrugged. “It likely has a lot to do with you, for starters, and a lot to do with the fact I let her captive out so she was forced to kill him.”

“I think, perhaps, she feels threatened by you, to an extent. She has always taken it upon herself to save me from my darker impulses,” Hannibal said with a chuckle. “You don’t make that attempt. I think she might consider you a bad influence,” he said, smirking.

“She’s not much better. She pushed me off a train and shot me,” Will sighed with a frown. “I have learned that there is no changing you. Just acceptance.”

Hannibal smiled softly and stood up as the puppy and the older dog took the toy over completely, playing on the deck. “That is the difference. You are able to accept me. Chiyoh considers me family, but complete acceptance of what I am is not quite possible.”

“She doesn’t agree with anything you’ve done or do,” Will explained, understanding Chiyoh more than he cared to admit because he was like her once, just family to Hannibal and wanting to change him. “But she is still loyal.”

“Reluctantly at times, but yes. She is still loyal,” Hannibal said, with a little smile. The dogs splashed in the tide pool, slapping their paws into the surface of the water, and shaking long strands of seaweed.

Will watched, chuckling at the dogs. Headed over at Hannibal with a wry grin. “I'll be nice.”

“Thank you, David,” Hannibal said as he watched Buster leap into the tide pool, belly first, and then ran out with a small crab in his mouth, bringing it to Will as he shook it in his mouth. “Buster, what have you found for us?”

Will knelt down, pulling the red little thing from Buster’s jowls carefully. “Looks like part of dinner.”

“If we had enough of them, I could prepare something,” Hannibal said, as he inspected the crab.

Will held the crab out in his hand and then shooed Buster off to find another one. “Well we might not get enough for a meal, but maybe an appetizer,” he chuckled.

Buster raced off to throw himself into the tide pool to find more of the little crabs, retrieving them for Will with great enthusiasm and pride. “I’ll do what I can,” Hannibal laughed, watching Buster work at wrestling little crabs out of the sand.

“If nothing, he feels important now.” Will shook his head, squatting down with his hand out to collect them one by one.

“He’s quite important. Despite his size, he leads the rest of the pack,” Hannibal said, as he watched Will accept Buster’s spoils. “Quite like you, that way. You even challenged Jack’s control over the unit.”

Will looked behind his shoulder at Hannibal, hair falling into his eyes as it sprung out of place. “Did I?”

Hannibal smoothed the strand of hair into place and leaned in to kiss Will. “You did. You, like Buster, can be quite disruptive, despite your size,” he teased.

“I’m not small,” Will pointed out, handing off the little critters in his hand to Hannibal. “You’re maybe an inch taller than me.”

Hannibal took the crabs toward the house, sure they had enough now, even if Buster kept hunting and digging for them. “You are slender, but wiry, much like a Jack Russell terrier.”

“If you’re trying to get into my pants later, you’re not doing a great job,” Will commented, brushing his hands off on his trousers and them grimaced, forgetting how nice they were. He started to hear the dogs back inside. “Wiry.”

“I think we’ve established that I like you as you are, Will,” Hannibal said with a soft smile, and handed Will a clean hand towel in the cabin as the dogs piled inside.

Will wiped his hands the right way and then used the towel to wipe down Xena’s paws and then the others. “I didn’t think you saw me as a small dog.”

“Not at all,” Hannibal said, “it was a momentary comparison that I found amusing. The image I have of you in my mind and heart is not one of an intense, small dog. However, the point remains that pets do resemble their masters.”

“I resemble Buster?” Will asked, drying off Winston’s paws, and then Buster’s, moving down the line. “First I’m a lamb, now I’m a Jack Russell.”

“We both have minds that thrive when presented with the symbolic,” Hannibal said, watching Will work as the sun shone on his smoothed hair.

Will shrugged as he finally got the last set of paws wiped off and then let the dogs go. He set out water for them, not yet dinner time. “Are we ready to go?”

“Absolutely,” Hannibal said, from near the door as the dogs began to settle in for a nap on the warm floor. “I’ve selected three places to visit.”

“Let’s hope they meet your standards.” Will walked out and adjusted his jacket, waiting for his beau.

Hannibal sauntered out and climbed onto the bike, starting it, then waited for Will to sit behind him, again. Will threw his leg over and straddled in behind Hannibal, hands on his waist as he tucked his chin in over his shoulder.

Hannibal drove off with Will behind him, headed onto the highway, south on the coast. Ten minutes of driving in the sun later, Hannibal slowed the bike and turned into a driveway that wound through a thick treeline to a large house near the beach. He parked the bike, and shut it off. “Our first candidate…”

Slipping off, Will straightened his jacket one more time and fixed his hair back into place. “I like it so far.” The scenery was perfect and near the beach no less. It wasn’t a river or stream, but Will had grown used to the ocean.

The house was situated halfway over the water, held up on strong, treated stilts. It was two stories and painted soft blue with white trim, accented with gray stone. A handful of cars lined the drive, they were far from the only visitors to the open house. “It’s a newly built house. No studio, but I’m certain we could improvise around that,” Hannibal assured Will as they walked up steps to a huge, wrap around porch that stretched out over the sea at the back.

“How many bedrooms? We can convert one,” Will commented, taking Hannibal’s hand as he had grown accustomed to doing the last few weeks, and not out of necessity.

“Three,” Hannibal said, as their hands joined. “A two-car attached garage, modern interior, two fireplaces, heated floors,” Hannibal said as they walked into the open, airy interior of the ocean house. The wall facing the sea was mostly glass from ceiling to floor, and the view was utterly breathtaking.

Will's breath left him at the sight, and then stilled to look at the views. “It's breathtaking.” Hannibal watched Will instead of the ocean, and saw the black of his pupils widen to take in the sight of the ocean as far as he could see. He let Will look, mesmerized by the gentle waves, and then tugged at his hand to inspect the long, curving kitchen that was also filled from counter to ceiling with windows. “Spacious enough, although I’d rather the countertop was white quartz, and the wood used for these cabinets hardly compliments the beam work in the ceilings.”

“We can remodel if it bothers you,” Will murmured, touching the countertops with his fingertips, loving it despite the flaws, as he saw those, too, as interesting.

The kitchen floor was tiled with thick, vibrant green stone, and Hannibal looked from it to his fiance’s fingers as they touched the countertops. An agent approached them, smiling. “Hi, I’m Jason. Nice to meet you. Beautiful view, isn’t it?” the nicely dressed agent asked, able to read from across the room that the man with the mustache had fallen in love with the place, while the taller man with the bun was not sold on it.

“Hi. David and this Armand,” Will said, offering his hand in greeting. “I love it. But my fiance is a bit pickier. He was hoping for a larger kitchen and a studio.”

The real estate agent shook their hands, and handed them both a copied floor plan. “The kitchen is a little narrow, but if you’ll come with me out here, we do have an indoor dining room and an outdoor dining area that has a stone oven and fireplace built into the rock of the adjacent cliffside,” he pointed out. “With this bar over here next to the house, it’s almost like having two kitchens and two dining rooms.” Hannibal just nodded, and stared at a rather awkwardly placed smoke detector on a nearby wall inside. “With space at a premium, is there a yard?” “There is a large outdoor space, yes,” the agent said, and led them upstairs and out onto a balcony that was as large as most yards. “It would be very easy to put a green space here, and make it into a yard. There is another balcony off of the master bedroom, one off of the main kitchen, and of course, stairs that extend down into the water for easy addition of a dock, if you’re into boating and fishing.”

“Is it suitable for a handful of dogs?” Will asked, not sure that remodeling much after the price of the place would be worth it, as nice as it seemed to be.

“I suppose that depends on how large the dogs are. There is plenty of land and woods around the house for long walks,” the real estate agent pointed out as he led them onto the large, large deck.

“Some are large,” Will commented, following the agent out, dragging Hannibal with him. He could tell this was not going to be their house of choice. “But we’re both busy, and need them to be able to get out on their own in a fenced in yard.”

“That might be a challenge on this particular property,” the agent admitted, reluctantly.

Will looked back at Hannibal, and then the agent with a sigh. “Well, then thank you for the time. This won’t do for our needs.”

“There is a larger house with much more land around it just up the coast,” the agent said. “It’s near the same price point, with a private beach. I imagine dogs would be quite happy there.” Hannibal tilted his head at the agent, intrigued for the first time. “Two stories, on the beach in a wooded area? I believe we’re on our way to see it,” he said. The agent handed them an address on the back of his card, for good measure. “Could be the same one, yes. Give me a call if you’re interested.”

“Thank you,” Will said, taking the card, and looking at Hannibal as he guided him away to talk. “We should go see it.”

Hannibal looked at the address with a little smile. “So we should. The other property I found for us is just that, a property on which we could construct a house of our own design,” he said, one hand on the small of Will’s back as they exited the beautiful, but rather cramped cliffside house.

“You want to build a house?” Will asked, brow raised skeptically as they exited this house to get back on the bike to leave to the other.

“It would be one way of having precisely what we both want,” Hannibal said, and straddled the bike. “Of course, it would take some time.”

“Do we have that time?” Will got on the back once more and held on tight. “We’d be staying in a hotel, essentially, if we do that.”

“We could rent a property while we had our house constructed,” Hannibal said, and started the bike, letting it idle as they talked.

“Why are we looking at houses then?” Will leaned in to look Hannibal in the eye.

“I thought, perhaps, we might find one that was perfect as it is,” Hannibal reasoned. “Would you rather have one built from the ground up, as it were?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen them all, but if you’re going to want one built from the ground up, there’s no point in looking when you won’t be satisfied,” Will answered, knowingly.

Hannibal chuckled, and considered it. “Shall we decide after viewing the next property?” Hannibal asked, after a moment, and a look up the road.

“Is there any point?” Will sighed, brows raised as he threw back a phrase to Hannibal he’d given Will three years ago, glass between them.

Hannibal caught the reference, and looked back toward the sea. “You know me best, Will. Shall we see the plot of land instead? It’s stunning. I think you’d be very comfortable there.”

“Okay.” He didn’t mind cookie cutter houses, as lavish and fancy things weren’t what he needed. Will had lived on far less and needed far less to survive.

Hannibal leaned back and kissed Will’s lips, softly, then began to drive them back toward the highway, and up, along the coast, heading north.

Will held tight. In the end, letting Hannibal have his way was far less messy, and far less constricting. If they bought a place Will liked, he’d never hear the end of it and how horrible the whole thing was to the doctor.

They drove for about twenty minutes, deeper into the forest around them. Finally, Hannibal slowed, and turned left, headed toward the coast down a dirt road that wound loosely between enormous redwood trees. He stopped in a clearing and cut the engine. “Everything from the highway to the shore would be our land. No immediate neighbors, ten minutes from the nearest town. There is a stream that cuts through the property, and empties into the ocean, on what would be our own stretch of private, black rock beach.”

The land around them was thick with tall redwood trees, and lacy ferns as far as they could see. Sure enough, the sound of a stream mingled with the more powerful, soothing rhythm of waves against rocks on the shore. Tiny blue flowers dotted the undergrowth, and birds chirped from branches overhead.

Hannibal put down the kickstand, and waited for Will to dismount first.

Will got off and looked around, taking in everything. It was perfect, only there was nowhere to stay, nowhere to live. “I like it, but a house on would be better. We… could get a camper… stay here while it’s built.”

Hannibal just raised one eyebrow at his fiance, and tilted his head. “With seven dogs, Will? Would a camper hold all of us?”

“You’re the one that wants to rent a house for almost two years,” Will pointed out. “An RV would hardly be bad. We get to oversee the building and i can put a fence up for the dogs.”

Hannibal shifted his jaw at the thought of living in a trailer for any length of time. “Do they make caravans that are actually suited to long term habitation?”

“Yeah. Lots of people do it,” Will explained, looking over their view.

“I’m deeply skeptical, Will,” Hannibal sighed, obviously not fond of the idea. “However, living away from everyone and everything else for two years would very likely end the search for us in its entirety. We would become virtually invisible, not seen around town, not watched by neighbors.”

“We’d have to go two years undercover, never seen unless we need essentials,” Will pointed out. “They make very nice RVs.”

“It may be worth it, and at the end of the two years, we would have a home,” Hannibal reasoned. He could not deny that it was by far the most sensible plan they had.

“I don’t know that we have the savings to just not work, buy an RV, build a house, and live for two years,” Will insisted, taking Hannibal’s hand. “I think it sounds great, but… I don’t know.”

Hannibal gave Will an almost pitying look at the statement, then pulled a receipt and a pen from inside Will’s jacket, and wrote a figure on the back of the receipt, then handed it to Will. “You are marrying the lone count of an ancient and rarefied aristocracy in a country with a bloody and long history of acquiring wealth in times of war. This is half of what you should consider _our_ wealth, Will, kept safe and available in multiple Swiss bank accounts. We need not worry about money.”

Will looked down at the number, having never just assumed Hannibal’s money was his own, nor that he had so much. Frozen to the spot, Will raised his brows as his eyes met Hannibal’s. “We could definitely buy a very nice RV for much less than this.”

Hannibal chuckled, and gave his fiance an amused look. “If you can find one that is not absolutely terrible, very well.”

Pulling out his phone, Will searched for a moment as they stood in the empty lot, water could be heard nearby with the rustle of wind. He handed the phone over. “There’s a few on the island for sale, or we can have one brought over…”

Hannibal turned to walk toward the water. “I’ll defer to your judgment,” Hannibal insisted, sure that looking at their options would only make him dread living in a trailer of some sort even more. He would have Will, however. It was only two years. It would pass far more quickly and happily than three years in prison had.

“You don’t even want to see?” Will sighed, feeling like there was going to be no winning. “If I pick wrong, you’re going to resent me.”

“From what I know of trailers, I think it’s best I am presented with whatever you think is our best option,” Hannibal said, over his shoulder.

“We’ll just rent a house close by,” Will said, putting his phone away. End of story, the fight wasn’t worth it.

Hannibal sighed through his nose and walked back to Will. “Very well, I’ll look.”

“I’m not going to put you out. Let’s decide what we’re doing here, enjoy the rest of our vacation and then worry about it,” Will suggested.

“As much as it does not appeal to me, this is without a doubt our best option if we are to elude any remaining search for us, including Alana and Margot, should they fail to keep their promise.”

“It’s a luxury RV or a tent, you decide,” Will said and pulled out his phone to bring up the page of very nice, marbled countered, leather-bound RVs.

“I cannot imagine a tent would be very practical,” Hannibal sighed, and bit the inside of his cheek.

“It’s not, it’s too cold.” Will went through the pictures, showing Hannibal, who seemed less than interested.

Hannibal frowned at the exterior of the long, boxy, thoroughly tacky looking vehicles, and tilted his head at what looked like the interior of a small apartment. “What is that?”

“It’s an RV.” Will flipped through more pictures, showing off even more of the luxurious bound RV that wasn’t cheap in any way.

Hannibal tilted his head, and looked at the photos, then took the phone in his own hand to inspect them more closely. “ _These_ interiors are what is inside these exteriors?” he asked, with a touch of incredulity.

The outside of the vehicles looked graceless and plastic. The insides, however, were surprisingly well designed. They were sleek and airy, more like the polished inside of small yachts than anything else. “Yeah. Some people live in them for… life.” Will leaned over and swiped to a very expensive looking one, very spaceship looking.

“I suppose that would not be too much of a hardship, for a couple of years,” Hannibal admitted, reluctantly.

“There are a lot of options, we just have to decide what works best for you. I’ll build a little fence for the dogs so they can come and go as they need to, as well,” Will said, showing how much space there was in the RV that the dogs were all small enough it wouldn’t be an issue.

“I admit, that was not at all what I expected,” Hannibal said, as he swiped through the photos.

“Sometimes things aren’t what we have always been told.” Will wrapped his arm around Hannibal as they looked together. “Look at that counter.”

“Is it real marble?” Hannibal asked, as he navigated through the website, easily.

“I’m not sure. I’m sure it can be if we want it to be.” Will leaned into Hannibal and nuzzled his face once, mustache tickling his jaw.

“Perhaps I was hasty,” Hannibal admitted, smiling softly against Will’s lips as he turned his head to kiss him back.

“Perhaps you were,” Will agreed with a softer smile that matched Hannibal’s own, their lips brushing. “It’s only two years.”

“Two years with you will fly past,” Hannibal murmured, very fondly.

“We’ll be together. Not just living together. In a much smaller space,” Will laughed, wrapping an arm tighter around Hannibal’s shoulders.

“I would rather share a small space with you than live in a mansion without you,” Hannibal admitted, softly, and closed his eyes as their faces touched.

Will sighed contentedly, gazing at Hannibal, reminiscent of the world they had created for themselves around everyone else, their own little hole, an escape. Three years ago Will had only had dreams where this was reality, and now he lived it, wholly. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Are you certain of that?” Hannibal asked, with a soft chuckle, but held Will close against him under the canopy of trees that rustled over their heads.

“After a lot of time and deliberation, it is what I’ve wanted. I… just didn’t realize it,” Will explained and rested their faces together, utterly in love.

“At times, being in love with you felt like self-flagellation,” Hannibal admitted, quietly. “Being with you here feels as though I am dreaming, as I frequently did, of a life with you that will never come to pass.”

“It’s not a dream now.” Will smiled sadly, knowing he had a lot to make up for since he had a self-righteous attitude for so long towards them that wasn’t entirely fair. “I promise. If it is, may we never wake.”

“In some other world, we may be laying side by side after our fall, in an intensive care unit, comatose and dreaming of this life,” Hannibal chuckled

“I hope not. It’d all be for nothing.”

“We would have to start over, if we woke at all,” Hannibal mused. Will’s eyes looked nearly green in the low light, the color of the foliage around them, on what would be their land.

“I’d miss this too much,” Will whispered as he leaned in to kiss Hannibal’s lips, as though sealing a promise that no matter what, he’d find a way back to this.

Hannibal pulled Will closer, and kissed him, harder, his palm cradling the back of Will’s head as his tongue brushed over Will’s slowly, twining together. His other hand tightened in the back of Will’s shirt, twisting the fabric softly.

With a sigh, Will wrapped both arms around Hannibal, kissing him in return in much the same fashion, keeping their bodies close, warm and blocked from the wind chill. Between breaths and kisses, Will whispered; “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Hannibal whispered back, simply, and honestly. “Perhaps we could arrange to be married here, on the ground where we will build our home.”

“That’d be perfect. Before they start to tear it up,” Will murmured, biting at Hannibal’s lips once.

“It is a beautiful place. The trees give it the lofty feeling of a cathedral,” Hannibal whispered, as he brushed his lips over Will’s, enjoying the tickle of his mustache.

“Then we’ll be married here. It’s perfect.” Will could envision perhaps twinkle lights in trees, and waiting until the sun went down, and everything lighting up just right for their moment, their new life together.

“I’ll put in our offer with the agency,” Hannibal said, elated. “From where do we purchase one of the trailers you were showing me?”

“I’ll have to call about having it delivered if we like it,” Will said. “But that will have to wait until we get our new papers.”

“They will hopefully arrive very soon, by tomorrow, I should think,” Hannibal said, with a soft smile. His hand was still tight in the fabric of Will’s shirt, keeping Will close enough that he could feel Will’s heart beating in the bone cage of his chest.

“You know, this means we have no space for Chiyoh to stay a while now,” Will pointed out with a look, up close, hands clasped behind Hannibal’s back.

“Was that your design, Will?” Hannibal teased, smirking as he stroked his fingers down Will’s spine, through his shirt.

“No,” Will said, defensively. “Not at all…”

“Merely an unexpected benefit?” Hannibal joked with a smile, and brushed his lips over the side of Will’s neck, up to his ear. “Avoiding one’s in-laws is a common past time of the married.”

“I guess I’m doing it right.” Will’s eyes closed at the feeling of Hannibal’s lips on his skin, a shiver zipping down his spine.

“She is the only inlaw you need to worry over. You’ll never meet the others,” Hannibal purred, into Will’s ear.

“Sadly. But you'll never meet yours either,” Will murmured back, clutching at Hannibal a little tighter.

“Is there anyone alive for me to meet?” Hannibal asked.

“My father, but we don’t talk and haven’t in years. You’ll likely never meet him.” Will had spoken to his father in years, longer if he thought about it.

“Very well, in that case. He’s made no attempt to contact you?” Hannibal asked, with innocent curiosity.

“He probably thinks I’m dead,” Will commented with a shrugged as he gazed at Hannibal.

“He does not deserve you, if he is utterly indifferent to his own son,” Hannibal said, loyally.

“I bailed on him when I was eighteen. I left and never looked back. I spent most of my time taking care of him.”

“He drank, heavily?” Hannibal asked, and took Will’s hand, walking through the trees to the black rock beach beyond them where the waves lapped at smooth, dark pebbles, ceaselessly.

“Yeah. I get it from him,” Will answered as they walked, hand-in-hand, scoping out their new land to be.

“Did you take care of him, after your mother left?” Hannibal asked, softly, but bluntly.

“Yeah. He worked, came home, drank, passed out. I made sure there was something to eat and then got him to bed.” Will looked over at Hannibal. “Coping mechanisms I guess.”

“Did you resent caring for your father during your formative years?” Hannibal asked. “In a sense, you likely replaced your mother.”

“I don’t remember how he was before she left us,” Will explained, shaking his head, but staying close, keeping this hands together, palm-to-palm. “But if he was the reason she left, probably.”

“When did she leave?” Hannibal asked as he stroked the pad of his thumb over the side of Will’s hand.

They’d only touched on this once in their friendship, in their not-so-much therapy sessions. “I was very young, young enough to hardly remember when she did, and young enough to not remember her.”

“Your father never spoke of her?” Hannibal asked, with a tilt of his head as they walked along the shore. Will looked quite in his element here, surrounded by greens and the moody blues of the sea.

“It’s a little… sacrilege with him,” Will sighed, enjoying being near the water, living near it, hearing it gently lap against the shore.

“Do you know her name?” Hannibal asked. He knew from experience that this was not a matter Will would discuss with anyone but those closest to him. He had tried, before, and had not felt Will would allow the topic until now.

“Jane.” Will watched the water as though it was the very thing keeping him glued to the spot.

Hannibal moved his hand from Will’s only so that he could wrap his arm around Will instead, and then his other arm, and hold him close as Will watched the water. “I am sorry, Will. Did your father have a temper?”

“Sometimes.” Will blinked and leaned into Hannibal’s arms, a comfort he’d grown used to lately, but didn’t have for many years.

“Have you ever considered, Will, that the way you grew up is very much like the life we’ve fallen into now? Always moving, never staying in one place long enough to set down roots. Perhaps your resistance to building a home with me was partially because your family of origin was transient … running from a terrible event?” Hannibal asked, easing Will toward what he suspected had actually happened to shatter Will’s childhood.

Will turned to face Hannibal, wanting to say that it wasn’t the case, but he knew deep down that Hannibal was right. “You think my father killed her.” He shifted his jaw, brows furrowed deep, eyes brimming with tears. It made sense, his father was always moving them around.

The last time Hannibal had seen Will’s eyes with tears in them had been when Abigail bled out on his kitchen floor. The knowledge was beginning to settle in, Hannibal could tell, and held Will a little more tightly, like he was trying to keep him warm. He could, in fact, feel Will’s body go cold with shock. “Think of what you know, Will. Your mother abandoned you when you were only an infant, without explanation, without any attempt to contact you in your later years, without any offering from your father to know her once you were grown? Your father refused to discuss her with you. He moved you from town to town, ceaselessly, and likely prevented you from making friends to whom you might confide how quickly and absolutely she had vanished into the silence.” Hannibal rubbed Will’s back to keep him focused as much as he could on the here and now. “I do not believe Jane left you, Will, not of her own volition. I believe your father, a man capable of violence killed her on impulse. Perhaps he felt remorse after he disposed of her body, perhaps he did not. He drank, obsessively, after … like a man who longs to forget. You were raised by Jane’s killer, Will. His darkness runs through your veins.”

It was even more reason for Will not to want a family of his own blood.

“I…” Will worked over words in his mouth but nothing came out, nothing stood a chance of sounding right when his throat was tight with emotion, and his heart sped and dropped all at once. Hannibal wasn’t wrong, and Will had been too blind in his closeness to his father to really see it, to do what he used to do best and _see_ it.

Hannibal kept Will close, quietly, and rubbed Will’s back as the tide washed over the rocks, as steadily and slowly as the in and out of eternal breath. “This was out of your hands, Will. Your father was what he was long before you came into the world.”

“Maybe so… but I’m his son,” Will sighed, leaning into Hannibal more, his head against his shoulder and his arms wrapping around Hannibal to get them chest to chest once more.

“So you are. You did not kill your wife,” Hannibal said, calmly, and kissed Will’s forehead, tenderly, and then his cheek.

“No. Nor my husband,” Will replied quietly, feeling all of two feet tall, lost and small suddenly, like nothing in his life made any sense but Hannibal.

“You are not your father, Will. You replicated his circumstance, and chose to leave, rather than to annihilate Molly. You did dream of killing her, I’m certain, even if you imagined that you were Francis, at the time.”

“I… didn’t tell you about that,” Will murmured as he sucked in a sharp breath, pulling back to look Hannibal in the eye. It had been _the_ moment he knew that Molly would be better without him.

“You didn’t have to,” Hannibal said, calmly, and touched Will’s jaw. “You longed to free yourself. Killing her was one way to achieve that. You _chose_ another.”

“I did.” Will sighed heavily, taking a deep breath and then rested his forehead against Hannibal’s.

“You succeeded where your father failed,” Hannibal reminded Will, and smiled against his lips. “You pit your nature only against those whom you know deserve it.”

“That isn’t many.” Will eased and calmed with Hannibal’s every touch and word, finally starting to accept and move on. For now. He knew he’d had dreams of this later.

“You have found a way to navigate the world, without denying what you really are,” Hannibal said, with admiration. “That is far more than most men achieve in a lifetime.”

“Maybe.” Will took a step back and took Hannibal’s hand once more, the sun starting to set over the water. “I might have to call a few places and see about any Jane Does years ago.”

“It’s possible that you could investigate, from a distance. It may bring closure,” Hannibal whispered, and laced their fingers together. “Should we return to the dogs?”

“Yeah.” Will began the walk back with Hannibal, hand-in-hand once more. “They’ll be hungry.”

“Perhaps you could catch something, and we’ll cook outdoors this evening,” Hannibal reasoned, as they strolled together through the woods that would become theirs.

“Trying to get me to do my fishing therapy?” Will asked, knowingly, his tone sadder than it had been, less lively.

Hannibal kissed Will’s cheek. “I think it would be quite something to prepare a fish caught only seconds before cooking it. I imagine the flavor would be at its most vibrant.”

“It is,” Will said with a little smile. “I can do that, and we can have fish and something with those little crabs Buster hunted.”

Hannibal laughed at the thought. “I’ll manage something with them. He did work very hard,” Hannibal said as he stepped over a fallen, moss-covered log.

Will followed suit, nodding a little, the strands of hair that had been pushed back falling into his eyes once more. “Or we leave them for breakfast.”

“I think having them while they are at their freshest would be best,” Hannibal murmured as they made their own path through the woods. “How near the water would you like the house?”

“Not too close, but close enough,” Will answered, reeling even still, his mind wasn’t focused well on other decisions at the moment.

“Close enough that you’ll be able to see the water from our bedroom,” Hannibal said. He seemed as though he was meandering with Will, pleasantly and smiling. He was, however, watching Will very acutely for signs of shock, and distress.

Will had grown good at hiding things, even from Hannibal, but their connection was stronger now more than ever. “That might be nice.”

“The windows on the house we visited were lovely,” Hannibal admitted, with a look back at the ocean through the trees. “We can incorporate them into our design, if you’d like.”

Will had liked that house. He nodded. “I think that could be nice.”

Hannibal turned Will with him to look from within the trees to the ocean. “Our bedroom could be on the second story, our bed facing the ocean, with a balcony to the east, to capture the morning sun. Your first sight every morning will be the water as it stretches away from the edge of the western world.”

Will appreciated that Hannibal was trying to take his mind off the inevitable. He smiled over at him, the setting sun in his eyes. “It’ll be beautiful.”

Hannibal leaned in and kissed Will, softly, then let their faces touch for a moment before he sighed, and started toward the bike again, still holding Will’s hand. “We should get back. Buster will have the police coming to the cabin if we’re gone too long.”

With a nod, Will agreed, and when they got to the bike, he let Hannibal on first, and then straddled in behind him, pressing close and wrapping his arms around him tightly. “He’ll be trying to get out.”

“If he hasn’t achieved escape already,” Hannibal said, and looked back at Will. “Are you sure you’ll be warm enough for the ride?” Hannibal asked, aware that Will had gone cold with shock upon his realization.

“Yeah. I’ll be okay. Always am.” Will rested his chin on Hannibal’s shoulder.

Hannibal shifted, and unzipped his leather jacket, then turned to hand it to Will. “Just for the ride back, please. Humor me, Will.”

“Again with the small and lithe stuff,” Will said and undid his jacket and put the leather one on first and then the bigger one, much warmer now. “What about you?”

“I’m always warm,” Hannibal said, as he started the bike. “As you’ve discovered. You do keep your feet on my legs when we sleep.”

“Only recently.” Will held tight, taking a deep breath of the fresh air once more as they started off into the night, back to their cabin.


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning, before Will woke, the cabin was filled with the scent of crepes and sausage. Winston and Xena lay in bed next to Will, watching him sleep as they snuggled, while Hannibal cooked, and spoke quietly into his phone in Japanese.

Having not slept well, but laid there in bed most of the night, Will dozed with the dogs, enjoying his slumber as he listened to Hannibal speak a language he didn’t know much of. Finally and once he was off the phone, Will rolled out of bed, Xena at his feet as he padded off to the bathroom first. Then he came back out, the puppy having waited for him, wrapped in a robe as his feet padded across the heated floor through a sea of dogs that hoarded against his legs, excited that he was awake.

“If you are ready, crepes will be served shortly,” Hannibal said, as he turned to Will with a cup of coffee, presenting him with it.

“Thanks,” Will murmured, taking the cup and then pressed a kiss to Hannibal’s jaw with a hand around his hip, squeezing. “Smells great.”

“Blackberries grow in copious, and sprawling bushes in the woods,” Hannibal said, as he plated a dish.

“You’ve been berry picking?” Will asked, aware he must have dozed off a little after Hannibal rose for the morning. He sipped the coffee with a soft hum.

“Poptart and I managed to fill a large bowl in only a few minutes,” Hannibal said, and set the small table as the dogs hovered around the stove, waiting for bacon.

“She’s grown very attached,” Will commented and kissed Hannibal’s high cheekbone before going to sit down with his coffee, petting Winston with his foot.

Hannibal smiled at the kiss and looked at Poptart laid at his feet. “She seems to have decided I require her supervision at all times.”

“Or she wants yours.” Will smiled over at Hannibal, worn and weary.

Hannibal held up a little piece of bacon, and Poptart sat, nicely, the caught the tiny treat in her toothy jaws when Hannibal dropped it for her. “Possibly, yes.”

“She’s likely a little deaf and a little blind,” Will said sadly, sure that Molly hardly noticed much in three years.

Hannibal crouched, and picked Poptart up, carefully, obviously fond of the ugly little dog. “Her eyes are cloudy, likely the beginning of cataracts.”

“Not surprised.” Will sipped his coffee, aware that Poptart was getting up there in age and it was only a matter of time until he lost her too, just after getting her back.

Poptart wriggled closer and rested her head against Hannibal’s chest with a sigh, eyes closed. He held her with one arm and served crepes with the other. “You slept restlessly.”

“I hardly slept,” Will commented with another long sip of coffee.

“It seemed that you dreamed, frequently,” Hannibal said, and sat with his own plate, still holding Poptart, quietly.

“Yeah. It’s an in and out sequence,” Will explained, taking his own plate a little closer, he cut into a bite, though hardly that hungry.

“Need I ask about the content of your nightmares, Will?” Hannibal asked as he watched Will pick at his breakfast.

“Who said they were nightmares?” Will took a bite, forcing the food down on a stomach that didn’t find any joy in the thought right now. He’d been given information he almost wished he never had, but now that he had it, his mind was working it as a crime scene, putting him in spaces he never wanted to go back.

The best and fastest way to draw Will into a difficult conversation was to give Will a chance to correct him.

“Were they?” Hannibal asked, and sipped his coffee as the dog slept against him.

Chewing slowly, Will just shrugged. He’d not had time to process just yet, his mind wasn’t quite ready to do that.

“I watched you and imagined that you dreamt of a face you could not see,” Hannibal said, sympathetically.

Will stared at Hannibal a long time before he took another bite and sip of his coffee, preoccupying his physical self as his mental self tried to piece together everything, but not all the pieces were there yet. “Something like that.”

“The mind is a remarkable reservoir of memory,” Hannibal said, softly, and swallowed before he looked away, unsure of just how Will might respond to his offer. “If you’d like to remember her, I’m certain I could help.”

“I… are there memories from when I was a baby? I don’t have pictures of her, never did. He erased her from our lives completely,” Will whispered into his mug.

“Hypnosis can unlock memories from a remarkably early age when conducted under the guidance of an expert, which, of course, I am.”

Leveling a look with Hannibal Will set his mug down on the table as Xena pawed at his leg. “The last time I did that it left a rather bitter taste in my mouth for more.”

Hannibal nodded, and met Will’s eyes again, over his cup of coffee, then took a swallow. “I suspected as much, but thought I would brave the memories to offer.”

“I’ll see what I can find on her first. If nothing comes up then I’ll consider it,” Will explained with a little nod. “Jane might not even be her name.”

“It may not. A rudimentary search of marriage certificates with your father’s name would yield an answer to that,” Hannibal said, calmly and gently.

“If they were married at all. I… don’t know what else he would have lied about,” Will shrugged once and finished his coffee.

“I think the first question you must answer is whether or not you want to know the truth,” Hannibal said, as he watched Will throw obstacles in his own way before he even began to look for answers.

An ache settled in Will’s chest, right in the middle, and he tensed. “I really don’t know. What good does it to me forty two years later?”

“This is a trauma that has informed many of your lifelong insecurities and fears. Addressing it, learning the truth about what happened and why may change the way you perceive yourself,” Hannibal said, with an air of authority.

“How’s that?” Will asked, leaning forward over his half-eaten breakfast, still deciding if he should force it or not.

“You, as a child, learned that you were rejected and abandoned by your primary caregiver. What stories did you construct in the vacuum of information left by your father’s silence to explain why she left you?”

“That she didn’t love me, or us…” Will swallowed, gazing down at his plate as he chewed the inside of his cheek. “That I wasn’t good enough to stick around for.”

Hannibal watched Will for a moment, the way his handsome face softened, worn with pain over the years. “If she was taken from you, instead of having abandoned you, the evidence would necessarily require that you acknowledge that you were loved, from your very first moments. You may have to accept, Will, that you are loveable.”

“To you,” Will said with a nod and understanding. “Knowing it doesn’t change who I grew up to be and who I am now.”

“Knowing the truth may not change who you grew to be, but it may alter your self-concept in a far more powerful way than you can imagine. Due to your mother leaving, I’ve always suspected your contempt for yourself is primordial, Will, formed before you knew how to walk.”

“You might have a point.” Will knew Hannibal was right, and that Will could be very much stuck in his ways, but change was inevitable, and in this case, something he could use.

“There was a reason the first question I asked of you in the course of therapy was about your mother,” Hannibal said with a little smirk.

“And there was a reason I said nothing.” Will smiled a little more on seeing Hannibal’s, the distance inside of himself pulling him back to present, to their growing life together. “Was that Chiyoh on the phone earlier?”

“It was. She has couriered our documents, they should arrive this afternoon, hopefully,” Hannibal said with a smile and a look at the watch on his wrist.

“She’s not coming herself then,” Will said without an ounce of feeling in it one way or the other.

“She will follow in three days, once she’s removed our personal items from the house, and arranged for its sale,” Hannibal said with a smirk. “Our neighbors will just have to wonder, I’m afraid.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” Will murmured pushed a few bites around his plate before taking another one into his mouth.

“I will never forget Barb,” Hannibal said, with a smile, and smelled his coffee before sipping it, his eyes so dark that they were nearly black.

“I will,” the brunet said with a look at Hannibal. He never found Barb appealing in any way, not even as a friend. Then again, Will didn’t engage anyone often more than he had to.

“It is a tremendous shame that I never had the chance to turn her into a hot dish to bring to the next neighborhood gathering,” Hannibal sighed. “Perhaps we could have had a barbeque for your birthday.”

“My birthday is in June,” Will reminded with a look and finally decided he couldn’t eat much more and stood to gather their dishes to wash. “And I don’t want to eat Barb for my birthday.”

“I’m well aware of when your birthday is, Will,” Hannibal reassured his fiance, and watched as Will gave up on breakfast, noting his disinterest in blackberry crepes and bacon for the future. “What would you like, in that case, when the occasion arrives?”

“I don’t know. If we’re going to barbeque then I guess ribs or something,” Will replied. It wasn’t the food, it was his nerves and the nightmares, it made it hard to want to eat.

“We haven’t celebrated your birthday, before,” Hannibal noted.

“I just figured you didn’t want to,” Will quipped with a look over his shoulder at his husband to be, as he washed the dishes by hand.

“I assumed the same,” Hannibal said. “We will have to make up for it, this year. Nothing extravagant,” Hannibal promised, with a little smirk to himself.

“We will.” Will had every intention of making up for a lot of things.

Hannibal stood smoothly, and put Poptart on their bed to keep sleeping, then washed his hands in the sink, and looked at Will, one eyebrow raised. “Do you know my birthday, Will?”

“January 20th,” Will said with a smile over at Hannibal as he dried the dishes he had washed. Pleased, and a little surprised, Hannibal leaned in to kiss Will on the lips as Will dried their plates and cutlery. “I wasn’t certain you would have known that.”

“You never noticed every year you had roses delivered to your office?” Will asked with a smirk against Hannibal’s lips. “Anonymously.”

Hannibal paused, and blinked as a realization hit him. He pulled back at looked at Will, with dark amusement. “They were beautiful,” he said, and hooked a finger in against the waistband of Will’s pajama pants. “I was so certain that they could not be for me that I left them with my secretary, every year.”

“Every year, and you didn’t stop to put it together?” A stirring of lust renewed inside of Will, burning hot in his belly as he leaned his hips forward just so.

Hannibal licked his own lips as he tugged Will closer, glaring at him up close with a smile in his eyes. “You had me so completely fooled that once I’d ruled out anyone from our old life haunting me, I dismissed the thought of you sending me long-stemmed, lavender roses. You are a deceitful, cunning, ruthless man, Will.”

Eyes blown dark, Will smirked. “Wind him up and watch him go.”

“Your reckoning will be pieced out, stretched throughout the rest of our lives,” Hannibal sighed, their noses almost touching as they spoke.

“I told you it was coming,” Will chuckled softly and kissed Hannibal deeply on the lips, the coiling in his belly spreading.

Hannibal groaned softly when Will kissed him like that. There was, in reality, no way to know for certain whether or not Will would ever be finished fooling him. Hannibal wasn’t certain he ever wanted Will to stop taking his revenge. It was lovely, and he knew, after all, that he deserved it. Hannibal pulled Will close, against his chest, and sucked at his lower lip, lingering for a moment before he kissed him fully, again.

Will was done when he knew he was, which wasn’t any time soon, but he had no plans to do much more in the moment.

He wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders, pressing them together until their heartbeats matched up. “I love you very much,” he whispered between deep kisses and ragged breaths.

Hannibal felt his heart seem to flip over, lightly, when Will said that, as though Will’s words had the power to stop gravity itself for a moment.

“Is that your revenge, Will? To love me?” Hannibal asked, against Will’s lips, with a smile. “To make me need you?”

“Yes,” Will replied simply, blue eyes peering at Hannibal, half closed.

“In that case, I hope that you are never certain that I’ve been punished quite enough,” Hannibal whispered against Will’s lips, and kissed him again, passionately.

“Do you love to suffer?” Will whispered and pushed Hannibal back toward the bed slowly.

Hannibal let Will push him and tugged at the drawstring on Will’s pajama pants before he laid back on the bed, and pulled Will down, over him. “Suffering is subjective…”

“Then I guess we suffer together,” Will said and tossed the robe off and stepped out of his pajama pants, naked over Hannibal.

Hannibal pulled Will closer and kissed him soundly as he ran both hands over his bare skin, hungrily. He wrapped both long legs around him, keeping their bodies together. Will helped Hannibal out of his clothes and then writhed over him, rutting his length between Hannibal’s thighs.

“Hannibal…”

“Tell me what you want, Will,” Hannibal whispered, arching up against him as he kicked his trousers away.

“You. Just you,” Will whispered as he kissed down Hannibal’s jaw to his neck, touching every bit of skin he could, unable to get enough of everything Hannibal.

Hannibal stretched his neck out, arching and rubbing. They moved like teenagers, desperate to touch all over as they rutted. “I am yours…”

“I… want to taste you,” Will admitted into Hannibal’s ear, grasping his cock in one hand, working him over slowly.

A jolt of heat shot through Hannibal’s body, and he kissed Will’s lips, hard, both hands in his dark hair at the thought. He pulled back just enough to whisper, already breathless. “I am yours for the tasting, Will.”

Will kissed down Hannibal’s neck, to his chest, teething over nipples and then down to his hip, biting there once, not hard enough to bleed yet. “Good…” he whispered roughly, possessive.

“Have you ever thought of this, before?” Hannibal asked, a strand of his hair in his eyes as he watched Will kiss his way down.

“Only with you.” Will blinked his large, doe-like eyes up at Hannibal as he licked the crevice of his hip, and then nosed along his shaft, taking in every last bit of him, his scent, the feel, everything, before licking a fine stripe up the length.

Hannibal was quite aware that Will hadn’t, until now, allowed his mouth to rove anywhere lower than his shoulders. That was fine, of course, but this was hot enough to blister the walls inside Hannibal’s memory palace.

“Will,” he whispered and kept his touch light against the back of Will’s neck.

Pulling back the foreskin, Will wrapped his mouth around the head and sucked gently, growing used to the taste that wasn’t as bad as he thought it might be. He moaned, writhing against the bed as he hooked his arms around Hannibal’s thighs and sucked him down slowly.

Hannibal’s mouth dropped open, soundlessly, and his thighs tensed as he arched his hips just a little. One hand clenched in the sheets, the other in Will’s hair. “Will-”

Darkened sea blue eyes gazed up at Hannibal, hungrily, as Will sucked him down to the hilt, choking a little at first, his face blooming red, but then he grew used to it, and did it over and over again, slicking Hannibal’s cock root to tip.

“Good-” Hannibal gasped, as he tried to watch Will, only able to manage moments of it before his system became overwhelmed, and his head fell back against the pillow.

Pulling back for air, Will’s lips were red and swollen as he licked them, gazing at Hannibal’s form, more than glad to see him enjoying it. “I could watch you like this all day,” he admitted, fingers grasping into his hips before taking Hannibal down once more.

Hannibal felt intoxicated with lust, his entire body was a singular pulse that began where Will’s mouth had just left him wet. “Please,” he purred, managing a smile before Will wrapped his lips around him again. At that, his head fell back, and his hands clenched, one around the sheets, one in Will’s hair.

Chuckling against Hannibal’s shaft, Will pulled back again. “Please what?”

“Watch me like this, all day,” Hannibal whispered back, breathlessly.

Will smirked and then licked Hannibal’s cock again, slowly, lewdly, and then nosed down the side of it, taking in his musky scent. “If I thought you’d last that long…”

Hannibal smiled again and then moaned. His toes curled, and he watched Will tease him through pale eyelashes. “I’ll do my best…”

“How would _you_ like me?” Will asked, nosing and licking along Hannibal’s shaft, to his balls, teasing.

“Just like this,” Hannibal whispered in a husky voice, his fingers raking curls and waves into Will’s previously straight hair. “Teasing me with your mouth, in every possible manner.”

“Okay.” Will lapped at Hannibal’s balls, slowly, testing his own limits, but he was finding that with Hannibal, he didn’t have any. He removed on arm from around Hannibal’s thighs, slowly rolling his balls in his palm.

Hannibal groaned, softly, a few Lithuanian words lost in the sound at the new touch from Will. “I never imagined,” he whispered, “I would love rough hands, so much.”

Mind set on making Hannibal melt into a completely messy puddle, Will let his mind stay there, letting the world around him slip away as he rutted his own hips against the bed for friction. He pushed Hannibal’s thighs apart a little wider, dipping his tongue lower, just below his balls, working his fist over his shaft.

“Fuck-” Hannibal managed, through a choked gasp, honestly surprised when he felt Will’s tongue dip lower, and lower as his hips pistoned up into Will’s palm.

Wanting to make Hannibal come by this alone, Will stroked him faster, working his thumb over the dripping tip, and pushed his thighs apart further and up, licking at his rim, once, and then laved his tongue against it fully.

A helpless, choked sound escaped Hannibal’s lips as his thighs went tense and hot, muscles flexing as he writhed against the sheets, a tear rolling down his temple, dotting the bedding next to his head. “Will-”

Wetting his path, Will slipped a finger of his other hand against Hannibal’s rim, gently pushing it. He wanted to see Hannibal lose himself, to be the one that brought those tears to his eyes, to watch him writhe against the bed with ecstacy. Hannibal’s fingers began to shake, hard, the tremor joined by one from his core that forced his body to bend backward, rising up off of the sweaty sheets as he came, wordlessly and loud. Hannibal spilled over his own stomach, in waves, the entire world narrowed down to the feeling of Will’s tongue and finger.

Will continued his assault until he was sure Hannibal had ridden the waves out, his fingers covered in come, which he brought to his mouth to taste, licking them clean, slowly. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal laid on the bed, chest heaving. For a moment, that was all he could manage. “Will,” he whispered, shaken from the inside out.

Licking the last bits of come from Hannibal’s cock, Will pulled back, lips red and swollen, breathing hard. “I could definitely watch you all day…”

One hand managed to find Will’s shoulder, and Hannibal pulled him closer, to kiss his hot, swollen lips.

“I would never stop you,” Hannibal whispered.

Will crawled back over and kissed Hannibal’s head down into the bed, straddling his hips as he did. “I find myself indulging with you now more than ever.” Will had finally let the walls down, allowed himself comfort and pleasure, instead of punishment for them both.

Hannibal managed a lazy, relaxed smile up at Will, and wrapped one hand around his cock. “Indulge all you like, Will.”

Hips rocking forward into Hannibal’s hand, Will panted out a huff against his lips, body trembling from finally being touched. “I think I might.”

Will had pleased Hannibal, shaken him to his core, and Hannibal was not about to let that go unreciprocated. He twisted his hand around Will’s cock, slowly, and ran his thumb over the wet tip. “I heard you grinding yourself against the bed.”

“I’m a little… worked up,” Will admitted, clutching Hannibal’s shoulders, his right hand grip not as tight. His hips shuddered as he pushed them into Hannibal’s grip more, rocking back and forth.

Hannibal hummed, and kissed Will, biting his lower lip. “Did you imagine you were fucking me, instead of the sheets, Will?” Hannibal asked as he gave Will’s throbbing cock a hard squeeze, able to feel Will’s heartbeat through it.

Any time Hannibal swore, Will felt a coil of heat burst inside of him, like seeing a beast beneath the shiny veneer of his person suit. “Yes…” he groaned.

“Is that what you want?” Hannibal whispered, against Will’s ear, teeth scraping the delicate shell of his earlobe, then biting at it. “Say it, and you can fuck me. Say you want me, Will.”

Will gasped, writhing over Hannibal as he pulled back enough to gaze down at him, eye dark and hair a mess. “I... want you.”

Hannibal’s ashy hair was mussed against the bed, long and wild. “You want to do _what_ to me, Will?” Hannibal asked, aware that Will was hanging on by a thread.

Will dropped his head, unable to hold it any longer, no matter how much he wanted to take Hannibal, he’d worked himself up. “I… fuck, Hannibal-” He hips hitched forward erratically and he spilled over Hannibal’s fingers, shaking and chest heaving.

Far from disappointed, Hannibal groaned, and stroked Will through his orgasm, smiling as Will coated his palm. “You really do love it when I use profanity,” he whispered, with a happy smirk, a little triumphant as he pulled Will down to kiss the side of his throat.

Once Will was down, on his side, he held Hannibal tight to him. “I like seeing more to you than the polish.”

“The polish is all most people wanted from me,” Hannibal noted, softly, and nuzzled Will’s profile as they snuggled and talked, warm in the cocoon of each other's arms. “Then again, you are not most people.”

“I am not. I like to know you inside and out,” Will whispered, feeling much better now that he let go of the depressing knot in his chest, for now. He wrapped his limbs around Hannibal, gazing at him.

“Quite literally,” Hannibal whispered back, and let his gaze wander over the perfection of Will’s features.

Will kissed Hannibal softly, their faces lingering together. “What’s on the docket today? Waiting for the papers?”

“Waiting for the papers, yes. We do need to be here to receive them,” Hannibal whispered. “After that, purchase our land, obtain a marriage licence, and locate one of the trailers you showed me,” Hannibal said, as though he could not quite believe Will had convinced him.

“I’ll look for trailers,” Will insisted, wrapping his leg over Hannibal’s hip. “Have it delivered if possible.”

“That would be ideal,” Hannibal murmured and rubbed Will’s back with one hand as Winston helped Xena up, onto the bed.

Will rubbed his toes against Xena’s fur as he rubbed his hand down Hannibal’s back, over the brand. “And then look into flat branding iron…”

“Of course,” Hannibal agreed with a little smile at Will, and moved closer, if he could manage. “It will be a relief to have Mason’s mark on me erased.”

“A clean slate.” Will rested their heads together as Xena curled at his feet and snuggled them.

“I think it reminds you of Verger farms more than it may remind me of it,” Hannibal said, fondly. The brand did not upset Hannibal at all, but Will disliked it.

“You… _don’t_ have to get rid of it,” Will insisted, fingers skating across Hannibal’s back away from the brand. “I just thought you’d want to.”

“I’d rather not have such a distinctively identifying mark on my body, particularly one with a connotation of ownership,” Hannibal reasoned. “I’d rather have your mark on me, Will.”

“I’d rather give you my mark,” Will whispered back, gripping Hannibal’s shoulders once more. “You are _mine_.”

“Utterly, and completely,” Hannibal agreed, and kissed Will, then turned to reach for something in the drawer of their nightstand.

“What are you digging for?”

Hannibal turned back to face Will, and presented him with a wooden ring box. “I intended to wait for a perfect moment to give this to you. I cannot think of anything as perfect as the two of us together, like this.”

Will took the box, rolling to his back, and then sat up. “When did you go get this?” He opened the box, looking at the very wooden and metal looking ring. “What’s it made of?”

The ring was exquisitely made, but simple. In the center was a dark band of material that looked almost like deep brown wood, two thin silver lines separated it from a gleaming bronze layer, which was finished with two more thin gleaming silver layers. “Platinum, bronze, and a very dark antler, shed by a deer native to this island,” Hannibal explained.

“I commissioned a local artist to make it, on the first day we arrived.”

Will handed the box back to Hannibal, for him to take the ring out and put it on him properly. “It’s perfect.”

Hannibal took the ring out, then took Will’s hand, and slipped the ring on his finger. “Like you, it’s made of the stuff of wilderness.”

“Is that perfect to you?” Will asked, brows raised as the ring was slipped on, and then he looked at how perfect it fit. Better than any other ring he'd ever worn.

“Perfectly you,” Hannibal assured Will and looked at the ring on Will’s hand. “It suits you much more than a plain band. You are a complex man, with many layers. I think your ring should reflect as much.”

“Does your reflect you? Did I pick right?” Will laced their fingers together, twinging. “I want to be sure you love it.”

Hannibal looked at Will with a smile and kissed him again as Xena began to dig at the blankets at their feet. “I could not imagine a ring I would treasure more.”

Will had put in a lot of thought to it, had for a long time, despite their distance. “Good. I thought it was suiting.”

“I’ve already taken the dogs out for a long walk, but I’m certain they wouldn’t mind another,” Hannibal said. He had to stay close to the cabin to accept when their papers arrived, but the more time the dogs spent outside, the happier they seemed.

“I’ll get them out of your hair,” Will whispered as he leaned to kiss Hannibal once more, and then crawled out of bed to find some clothes.

Hannibal sighed and watched Will, admiring him as he stretched out on the bed. “No need to rush, of course.”

“No? You’d be bored without us?” Will gave Hannibal a look over his shoulder as he pulled on his shirt, buttoning it up slowly.

“Terribly,” Hannibal sighed, and climbed out of bed, shaking his hair loose as he crossed the floor to Will, and wrapped his arms around Will from behind.

Will leaned back into Hannibal, only in his shirt. “We’ll stay close.”

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal sighed, and smoothed Will’s shirt down, over his smooth chest. “Hopefully, it won’t be long at all.”

“I hope not,” Will whispered, sweetly, and turned around to kiss Hannibal properly. “The sooner the better.”

“Shall we straighten your hair a little?” Hannibal asked. “We’ve mussed it up quite a bit.”

“It was before, but it’s worse now,” Will chuckled, trying to straighten it down a bit with one hand.

“We’ll have to wet it again. If it wasn’t so cold, I’d say a swim would be nice,” Hannibal said.

“I could do that… and then I could very well die from freezing,” Will chuckled and pulled his boxers on, and then his pants. He fixed his mustache and ran a hand over face. “Need a shave too.”

“Alarming, isn’t it, the amount of upkeep involved in being polished?” Hannibal said as he twisted his hair up into the loose, messy bun that seemed to do things to Will for reasons unknown, and ran a hand over his stubble of a few days now.

“I don’t like it,” Will murmured with a little pout, and then went to go and shave, even if no one came by it was better to be prepared.

Hannibal smiled and followed Will into the bathroom, then turned Will around to face him. “Allow me.”

“It’s rather intimate,” Will commented and took a seat on the counter, lifting his chin toward Hannibal. “You’re unlikely to cut me as I am myself.”

Hannibal smiled at that as he pulled a straight razor from his suitcase, and a few more shaving items, and began what used to be a daily ritual for himself, adjusting it a little for Will. “There was a time I never imagined I would hear that, from you. But, it is true.”

“You have very precise hands and fingers, movement.” Wills shrugged but stayed as still as possible. “I can’t do it as well with my right hand.”

“I wouldn’t mind assisting you with this, Will, for as long as you’d like,” Hannibal assured Will, and worked a thick, soft lather of foam over Will’s jaw, massaging his face, slowly.

Maybe Will could learn to do it, but he liked the idea of them sharing this morning routine together and being close. “Thank you.”

Hannibal shaved Will, very carefully, beginning with the razor against the place where his jaw joined his cheekbone near his ear. “I know I’ve said so before, but you do have a remarkable face, Will.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Will chided softly, teasing as he touched Hannibal’s waist with his fingertips.

“Far from perfectly symmetrical, but the tiny inconsistencies somehow render you … perfect. Your eyes alone stole my breath when we met,” Hannibal whispered.

Will tried not to smile bashfully with that, not to mess Hannibal up. “No one is perfectly symmetrical.”

“Not perfectly, but many cosmetic surgeons make a handsome living from the desire for it,” Hannibal commented, and smiled to himself as he shaved over Will’s throat, with a skilled and delicate hand.

“I had one once, for dinner. A colleague of mine, when I was only a resident …”

“A cosmetic surgeon? What did you serve him as?” Will asked with a look at Hannibal, head tilted back for easier access.

Hannibal kissed Will’s newly smoothed skin where it was still pink from the razor, and began to shave his jawline, carefully. “I followed him to Montreal, on his vacation, and killed him there. I took his arms, and used them to make a traditional tourtiere meat pie, then managed to display the rest of him in the style of the Venus de Milo. You may have heard about it in the papers, some time ago.”

“Some very long time ago,” Will said, fingers clutching Hannibal. “Do you miss it?”

Hannibal considered the question for a moment. “There are moments I miss the challenge of hosting dinner parties and the artistic thrill of transforming the rude into dishes of great beauty. However, the happiness I found in those days from fooling everyone around me is nothing compared to the joy I have at being seen, clearly, by you.”

“It’s what you wanted, after all,” Will whispered, leveling his gaze with Hannibal as he finished up the shave. “And here we are, finally.”

“Here we are,” Hannibal agreed, and set the blade down, then patted Will’s neatly shorn face with a warm, wet washcloth. “Do you miss hunting me, Will? Do you fear that a day will come when you look at me across our kitchen table, and find yourself bored of our domesticity?”

“I went three years hardly bored with it, why would our old change that?” Will smirked a little, his mustache twitching.

“Hardly bored?” Hannibal asked, one eyebrow rising a little.

“Hardly bored.” Will laughed and kissed Hannibal’s lips once.” You’re talking to the guy who fishes for fun.”

“I was under the impression that you were stifled and aimless,” Hannibal said, quietly, one hand still curled a little in Will’s shirt. He was still completely, and shamelessly nude.

“Aimless?” Will made a face, but held Hannibal’s shoulders, having not moved an inch.

“Lost, without purpose,” Hannibal said and tilted his head.

“You thought I was aimless?” Will knew he could seem aloof sometimes, but never aimless.

“From what you told me of your marriage? Yes. From what I could imagine, you seemed to drift for years under the cover of normalcy, headed nowhere in particular until Jack came knocking.”

“Not aimless, but just living. I was at a standstill,” Will explained, but rested their heads together. “I always had and still do feel a sense of being with you the way I hadn’t any other time in my life.”

The tension in Hannibal’s wide, bare shoulders dropped, and his expression softened. Both hands moved to Will’s waist and held him there, closer.

He was still, underneath it all, certain that this would fall apart.

“I’ll do my best to remember that.”

Will realized that he hadn’t really fostered any trust between them where this was concerned. That wouldn’t grow tired here, that he would get bored and leave as he had Molly. But being with Hannibal was more important now than any of that, and Will didn’t mind domestic simplicity.

“I’ll try to remind you now and then,” he whispered, keeping their faces close, he stroked his fingers over Hannibal’s bare skin.

Hannibal smiled a little at that, and touched Will’s face, breathing the same air. “I wouldn’t mind, I’m certain.”

“I’ll make it very worth our while,” Will promised, aware that the damage he had done would need some time to heal, that he’d have to promote the healing.

“It already has been,” Hannibal whispered and had just begun to kiss Will when a knock at the door was greeted by a cacophony of barking.

Will squeezed his hands around Hannibal’s shoulders and then pushed him off lightly. “Please put some pants on,” he murmured.

“Rather puritan of you, David,” Hannibal joked but turned to pull a pair of jeans on before he shrugged a sweater over his head, calmed the dogs, and answered the door.

Will helped with the dogs, quickly, and then got them away from the door for the moment so Hannibal could talk with the courier. He smoothed his hair down as he wrangled the dogs.

Hannibal stepped outside to meet the courier, who seemed disinterested in him, thankfully. He signed with a pen, dropped the pen on the ground, wiped it completely with his shirt, and handed it back with a smile.

The courier left, and Hannibal walked inside with the thick envelope. “A convenient trick, should you ever wish for an excuse to wipe an item clean of your fingerprints is to drop it, then wipe it off and hand it back.”

“You still had it in your hand before handing it back,” Will pointed out, but kept the idea in mind. “We could burn our fingerprints off…” he smirked.

“I held it in my sleeve,” Hannibal clarified. He arched an eyebrow at Will’s suggestion, and opened the envelope as he sat at the table, then handed Will a passport.

“Full thickness burns on all digits?”

“I was kidding,” Will said and took his new passport, with his new name. “Handy trick though.”

“There are other ways to achieve the same effect,” Hannibal said and handed Will his new driver’s license.

“Oh?” Will took that too, looking it over with a cant of his head. “How did she get updated pictures so quickly?”

“I may have helped alter our last photos, digitally,” Hannibal admitted, with a little gleam of pride in his eyes. “I know your face even more thoroughly than my own.”

“You use photoshop?” Will asked brow raised as he watched Hannibal, curiously.

“It is nothing more than an artistic tool of the modern age,” Hannibal said with a little smile at Will’s wonder. “I did encourage Alana to permit me a tablet with a few programs. It was best my mind was kept busy, or it may linger on events she did not want me to remember,” Hannibal chuckled.

Will just narrowed his eyes at Hannibal, playfully. “What else are you hiding?”

“Good things come to those with patience,” Hannibal murmured back to Will, just as playfully, and admired his own driver’s license.

“Rude, Hannibal,” Will said with a look, and went to take the dogs out after putting his passport and license away.

“There is something to be said for maintaining _some_ mystery in a relationship,” Hannibal called over to Will, as he slipped his own license into his wallet.

Will leashed the dogs up one by one, bent over to do so. “I’ll remember that.”

Hannibal abandoned the package on the table, and walked up, behind Will, one hand skimming Will’s hip. “I’m certain you will. You have a detective’s knack for remembering.”

Well aware he’d get Hannibal’s attention, Will smiled up at him and stood, dogs leashed. “That I do…”

“Just as you have a knack for luring me,” Hannibal smiled, kissing the side of Will’s neck.

Will smiled at that, his head canted to the side, leaving the long, tanned column of his neck open for Hannibal. “Have I lured you?”

“You have, and I think you know very well that you have,” Hannibal whispered, kissing up to Will’s ear as his hands moved over Will’s chest.

“How awful for you to be subjected to that,” Will whispered with a little groan, a scatter of gooseflesh raised over the skin of his neck. His left hand gripped the leashes tightly, the other reached behind to grasp Hannibal’s hip.

“I’m relieved to see you’re finally able to see that I’m the real victim,” Hannibal smirked, and ran his hand over Will’s groin, over his trousers.

Since they had finally been open about their attraction and feelings, Will couldn’t seem to get enough of Hannibal, insatiable the second he looked at him. It was an odd feeling, and not one he’d ever had with anyone else. Their mind connection bonded them completely.

“I must be just so terrible to you,” Will sighed, his cock hardening under Hannibal’s touch.

“Terribly abusive,” Hannibal smirked, and traced the outline of Will’s hardening cock through his trousers.

All thoughts of anything but Hannibal left Will all at once, the only thing keeping him grounded and not lost in his husband to be’s touch was the whimper of the dogs. “Hannibal…”

“Hurry back,” Hannibal whispered in Will’s ear, and let him go with a devilish smirk, then leaned against the kitchen counter, his shirt still undone at the front.

Will took a deep breath and turned to kiss Hannibal chastely on the lips, and then turned to take the dogs out, opening the door and then letting them lead him out toward the water, keeping the more rambunctious ones on their leashes for now. Once they had played for thirty minutes and did their businesses, Will took them back in and dried them off where needed.

Hannibal was washing dishes in the sink as he listened to Will and the dogs playing in the surf and forest, smiling to himself. Poptart was the first through the door and darted to Hannibal’s side, pawing his leg once to be picked up. Hannibal dried his hands and picked up the ugly little white dog.

“How was your outing?”

“It was good,” Will said, quietly, watching Hannibal a moment, his lust had not faded, but they were back on routine now, less distracted, for the moment.

Poptart flapped his tongue against Hannibal’s chin, three times, and wagged furiously at him before he set her down, gently, with a treat. “It sounded lovely.”

Will chuckled and washed his hands in the sink next to Hannibal, Xena going for the warmest spot on the floor to snuggle on with a blanket, Winston going to sit with her. “It’s always fun to watch them have a good time.”

“Did anyone catch anything today?” he asked, as he watched their busy pack settle themselves, the small cabin full of wagging tails.

“Not today.” Will bumped Hannibal’s shoulder with his own and then he went to set out fresh water for the dogs.

“I’m surprised,” Hannibal chuckled, as he watched Will. “Do you know of any places where we may view some of the trailers?” Hannibal asked, refusing to call them RVs.

“In person? Nothing as nice as we want on the island,” Will explained, setting down a bowl.

“In that case, we should make a selection quickly so that it will be delivered as fast as possible,” Hannibal said, and took his hair down, shaking it out.

“I’ll have the one we looked at and you liked brought to us,” Will agreed, a smiling flitting across his face as Hannibal did that. He pulled out his phone and found the one they wanted, giving it over to Hannibal since he kept the money.

Hannibal looked it over with a little smile at Will, flipping through the pages as he sat at the kitchen table. “The woodwork and stonework are all genuine?”

“Should be, the description says it is,” Will said, leaning over Hannibal’s shoulder, nice and close.

“If we review it, and do not like it, can we send it back?” Hannibal asked, as he leaned back into Will’s space, drawn in, as he always was.

“I don’t know.” Will wrapped his arms around Hannibal’s shoulders, nuzzling his jaw.

“It is still superior to my jail cell, and I managed inside of that for three years. Very well, order it,” Hannibal agreed, and passed the phone back, with a kiss. “I hope the bed is sufficiently sturdy.”

Will took the phone and ordered it with Hannibal’s account information. After hitting send, he kissed his ear once. “Done. I’m sure the bed is fine.”

“Is there any information about how long it will take to arrive? We may need to find another accommodation for the interim,” Hannibal said, preoccupied with his view of Will.

Will checked the email that was sent for confirmation. “Five days.”

“Much faster than I would have expected, very well.” Hannibal leaned back further, and tipped his head up, to kiss Will’s jaw. “I’ll place an offer for our land that I’m sure will be accepted, given the current market.”

“Okay,” Will whispered, strumming fingers through Hannibal’s extensions. “I love you.”

Hannibal smiled at the spontaneous declaration of love from Will and gazed up at him. “What made you say that?”

“Just…” Will sighed softly, nuzzling Hannibal’s face as he caressed down his neck with roughened fingers. “We’re finally getting what we want, together. _We’re_ together.”

Hannibal looped one long arm back, and pulled Will closer, into his lap to hold him. “We’re together, and we are going to stay together,” he promised, as their noses brushed.

They both had fears to face of being left or abandoned, but slowly they were coming to realize that neither one was leaving. They’d finally been honest and found their peace.

Will sat across Hannibal’s lap, arm around his shoulder, and kissed him softly with a content sigh. “I know.”

“Is this how you pictured us when you wanted to join me?” Hannibal asked, against Will’s lips.

“Maybe not at first, but this is what we’ve evolved into,” Will murmured, eyes half closed, arm tightening around Hannibal’s shoulders. “I’m not complaining.”

“What was it that you pictured if you had joined me?” Hannibal asked as they drifted off together in their bubble of happiness.

“For Italy? I’m not sure. I… hadn’t put a lot of thought into it once I realized that’s what I wanted. I didn’t get the chance to think about it either,” Will said, without an inch of remorse in his tone.

“What occupied your mind on the long voyage at sea?” Hannibal asked.

“All my regrets.” It was more than that for Will, but he didn’t want to drag them down into the proverbial ocean once more with his thought of depression back then.

“I was haunted by the same,” Hannibal sighed, against Will’s cheek. “I am not accustomed to being haunted by many of them.”

“I just wanted to find you, and apologize, and make it better. That’s all I thought about.” Will nuzzled back, eyes closed.

Hannibal swallowed hard, with a fragile smile on his lips, and kissed Will on the lips. “I missed you, every day. I am not used to missing anyone, save for Mischa. Your ghost joined hers, and you haunted me together.”

“Too bad I wasn’t a ghost, you failed to kill me,” Will whispered with a half-hearted chuff, smiling against Hannibal's mouth.

“Killing you was not possible, not after your call,” Hannibal sighed. This revisiting of that terrible evening felt different. He and Will were comforting each other now, no longer accusatory.

“You got inside of me, despite my best efforts,” Will said quietly, glad they had come a long way in a short time.

“I prefer my new method of being inside you,” Hannibal whispered, with a soft kiss to Will’s lips.

Will let go of a breath, soft and shaky, and kissed Hannibal deeper for that. “I prefer that too.”

Hannibal nudged Will’s face, softly, and kissed him back as they held each other. The wounds between them were healing, slowly and surely. Will gripped Hannibal’s shoulders tightly, the other hand loose in his shirt as they kissed, deeper and more passionate by the second, picking up where they had left off before the dogs.

Hannibal groaned and pulled Will closer, both large palms cupping his ass as their tongues wound together. “Hmm…”

He stood, still holding Will, and began to carry him toward the bed, with Will’s legs around his waist. As Will was dropped the bed, Buster jumped off. Will tugged softly on Hannibal’s longer hair, kicking off his shoes to the floor with a clatter as they kissed, making out like teenagers.

Hannibal shifted his shoulders, and let his shirt fall to the floor behind him, then straddled Will’s hips as he undid Will’s shirt. Will worked his hands up Hannibal’s waist, to his jeans, undoing them quickly, and then pressed his fingers up his chest and over his nipples.

Hannibal’s russet brown eyes closed at the touch and he rolled his hips down against Will’s with a groan, both of them already hard. “Here we are, again.”

“Here we are,” Will agreed, raking his hands back down over Hannibal’s hairy chest, eyes dark with lust as he gazed up at him, utterly drunk off each other.

“You aren’t bored of this yet?” Hannibal asked, slyly, as he undid Will’s belt, then his pants.

“No,” Will whispered lifting his hips slightly. He’d gone years without even so much as touching Hannibal intimately that wasn’t an act, and now he had everything he’d dreamed of. There was no getting bored.

Hannibal pulled Will’s trousers off, slowly, down his legs, and covered Will’s thighs in slow kisses. “Do you finally find me interesting?”

“I finally find you… unbearably, and impossibly, interesting,” Will said, toes curling at the soft kisses to parts of him that were rarely touched.

Hannibal loved how pale Will’s thighs were, and how warm under his hands and lips. He did the same with Will’s underwear and breathed against Will’s cock before he sucked it down without making Will wait another moment. Will’s thighs tensed and then loosened once more, his hands back in Hannibal’s longer hair, tugging as he pushed his hips forward.

“Hannibal…”

Hannibal moaned around Will, engulfing him with his mouth, and began to bob his head up and down, slowly. He cupped his hands under Will’s ass, squeezing and spreading his cheeks as he blew Will slowly.

Fingers clenched harder and Will spread his thighs as they were moved, his hips hitched up with a groan. “Don’t take too long, I want to feel you inside me.”

Hannibal pulled his mouth off, panting, and moved up Will’s body to kiss him, impatiently. “Say that again…”

“I _want_ you inside me. I _need_ to feel you,” Will whispered against Hannibal’s mouth, biting his lip once. “Please, Hannibal.”

Hannibal fumbled for the bottle of lube they kept on the nightstand as Will’s words went straight to his groin. “As it happens, I love hearing you ask me to _fuck_ you, Will,” Hannibal moaned, and started to finger Will after spreading lube over his digits.

Will’s eyes rolled back as his head dropped, and he hitched his hips a little more into Hannibal’s fingers. “I’ll try to remember that….” he breathed.

Hannibal kissed and bit Will’s lips as he fingered him slowly, exploring him and spreading him open with every twist and crook of his elegant hand. Soon, one finger joined another, and another, and Hannibal had three fingers inside Will, everything slick and hot before he replaced them with his cock.

Will grasped Hannibal’s shoulders, bringing his knees to his chest to take him in deeper. “Oh fuck, there-”

Hannibal’s eyes closed as he pressed himself hip-deep inside Will, and stayed there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of Will surrounding him. “Will.”

Hannibal guided Will’s legs over his shoulders and began to thrust inside him. “Fuck …”

“Say it again,” Will huffed, squeezing his legs over Hannibal’s shoulders, head thrown back against the bed, skin brightly flushed against the bedcovers. “Please.”

Hannibal began to rock himself harder, hips slapping Will’s ass as he watched Will beg for him to curse again. “I love fucking you, Will,” he moaned.

Will writhed beneath him, hot coiling lust threatening to burst and bring it to an end all too soon. Will bit his lip, holding himself off, not touching his own cock until they’d connected in every way possible. “Good-”

Hannibal could feel Will struggling not to come too quickly when they were connected this way. He could see and feel the muscle in Will’s body tighten with every thrust of his cock.

“Trying not to come, Will?” Hannibal asked with a dark smile, and began to fuck Will harder, as though it was a dare.

“I want to enjoy you,” Will said, flush faced and starting to sweat down into the sheets, grunting with the weight and speed Hannibal needed to fuck him at.

Hannibal leaned over Will, letting Will’s legs slide down and spread around him, then kissed Will harder, his hips slowing to an almost agonizing pace. “Better?”

“Fuuuck,” Will managed, breathing out slowly into Hannibal’s mouth and then kissed him harder, sloppy and wet, holding the back of his head, fingers tangled in his hair. “Yes-”

Hannibal groaned and palmed Will’s cock with one hand as he moved inside him, slowly. He kept their faces together as they kissed, and kept his weight off of Will with his other arm against the bed, hair hanging down around them as his back dipped and flexed with each thrust.

Each thrust boiled inside of Will to the point of spilling, as though the slower they went, the more anticipation there was to coil inside of him. “Hannibal…” Will managed, the slow slide of their bodies slick with sweat.

Hannibal pressed himself inside Will, all the way, holding himself there for a moment before they began again, moving like one body. “I can feel you trembling already,” he whispered, breathlessly.

Moaning out lowly, Will grasped Hannibal’s shoulders, legs around his hips to keep them close and moving as one. “You reduce me to this.”

Hannibal kissed Will, again, sensually, and gripped Will’s cock, letting the rock of their bodies move his hand with the same rhythm. “You changed me,” he whispered.

“We all crave a little change,” Will whispered with a grunt, his body shaking on its own, toes curling almost helplessly as he gripped Hannibal tighter, clenching around him with impending orgasm.

“I love you,” Hannibal breathed in Will’s ear, starting to stroke Will more quickly, working him slowly toward the edge.

Will gasped, breath hitching as he came over Hannibal’s fingers and his own stomach, the hot tight clutch of his body working around Hannibal’s length as he writhed and spasmed. “I… fuck, I love you.”

Hannibal’s head bowed as he came, their foreheads touching as he moaned, and his hands tightened; one in the sheet, one around Will’s erupting cock. “Will, _Will-”_

As they came and then lingered together, catching their breaths, Will’s limbs loosened and collapsed into the bed, all but melting there, spent. “Hannibal…”

Hannibal let himself lay over Will completely, head on his shoulder as he wrapped both arms around Will’s sweaty body. “You are … addictive.”

Hannibal had had an endless string of lovers in his life. He’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted Will, over and over again.

They’d made their connection through the mind first, and the physical much, much later. In Will’s mind, it was the best relationship he’d ever had, despite all the ups and downs. He wrapped himself around Hannibal once more.

“As are you. I can’t say I’ve ever had this much sex.”

Hannibal smiled, widely, and nuzzled the side of Will’s face. “Nor have I, with one person,” Hannibal chuckled, still holding Will tightly.

“Well, that’s promising,” Will murmured, doing his best to take it as the compliment it was meant to be.

Hannibal laughed at his own clumsiness in the moment, and kissed Will, apologetically. “What I meant, Will, is that you are the only person I _cannot_ be without,” he whispered, sincerely.

“Are you sure?” Will asked as he gazed up at Hannibal, non-accusatory.

Hannibal gazed back and cupped Will’s head in his hands. “If it were possible to burn every empty dalliance I’ve ever had, and hand you the ashes in a teacup, I would,” he promised.

“Would it fill the teacup?” Will asked, whispering just between them in their intimacy.

“No, that is how utterly insubstantial they were compared to you, Will,” Hannibal whispered back, sincerely.

“Okay.” Will squeezed Hannibal in his arms, willing to let their pasts go, and move on. It wasn’t worth being upset or jealous over ghosts.

“I’d kill any of them, if that would help you believe me,” Hannibal offered, quite honestly and openly.

“I don’t need you to kill anyone. I’m sure most of them are likely already dead,” Will commented.

“Many of them are,” Hannibal nodded, and kissed Will, again, then looked at his shockingly beautiful blue eyes. “You are the love of my life, Will.”

“As you are mine.” Will leaned up into the kiss, softly returning it, meaning every word.

Hannibal felt his eyes go wet, again, and something deep within him warm and glow, blooming in his chest when Will said that, like a vine with little blue blooms wound itself around the dark cathedral of Hannibal’s heart, and blossomed in the cracks of the stone.

“Can you sleep, now?” he asked, rolling to the side so that Will’s head lay against his outstretched arm, Will’s temple over his bicep as he held Will to his bare chest.

“Is that what this was about? Wearing me out?” Will chuckled softly, but his eyelids drooped a little as he grew more complacent in Hannibal’s hold.

“No, this was entirely selfish,” Hannibal whispered with a smile. He rubbed Will’s back, between his shoulder blades with the heel of his palm, and closed his eyes to focus on the feeling of Will’s heart against his own.

“Seeing me sleep?” Will rested his head in the crook of Hannibal’s neck, breathing softly as he started to drift.

“Fucking you senseless,” Hannibal whispered in Will’s ear with a smirk on his lushly shaped lips.

Will kissed the side of Hannibal’s neck with a little smile himself, wrapping his limbs around him, loosely. “I don’t mind that either.”

Hannibal moved his legs and pulled the white duvet up over them both, soothing his restless fiance with his voice, and touch. “I’m happy to oblige,” he whispered, with a little smile.

Will hitched his leg over Hannibal’s hip, and held him there, breath evening out, as he fell asleep.

***

Hours later, when Will woke, Hannibal was outdoors with the dogs, standing at the edge of the water with a fishing pole in one hand, and Winston pacing around him while the other dogs played, splashing each other as they wrestled.

Will dressed and wandered out, fixing his hair a little with his fingers. “Are you fishing?”

Hannibal turned to look at Will, his expression a little sheepish. He looked, however, like some sort of Viking where he stood on a large, black boulder with the sea behind him. He had obviously gone shopping while Will slept, and wore another pair of tight jeans, heavy boots, a tight black shirt, and a heavy siwash sweater open over the top of it. “Perhaps…”

Will stretched and yawned, and then walked up behind them, hand around his waist. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

Hannibal chuckled, and looked back at Will, over his shoulder. “I thought that fishing seemed like something Armand would enjoy, and that if I managed to catch tonight’s dinner, you would be duly impressed.”

“I’m already impressed. Will I be cooking?” Will asked, stepping closer, resting his chin on Hannibal’s shoulder.

Hannibal laughed, and looked back at Will as Will put his chin on the scratchy, but exceptionally warm sweater. “That would be a lovely reversal of our usual roles … provided of course I can catch something.”

“It won’t be hard. Water is teeming with fish,” Will said, with a little smile, having not waited long the other night to catch something.

“There’s no technique to luring them?” Hannibal asked, and looked into the water, hopefully. It wasn’t often he allowed anyone to watch him do something until he was already proficient.

“Did you use a lure?” Will asked, squeezing his arms around Hannibal. “Bait?”

“I used what came with the rod. It’s … bright with some gold on it,” Hannibal said, as the hook drifted in the water, twirling in the current of the waves.

Will sighed, squeezed Hannibal around the middle once more and then let go. He called Buster over to help him dig a bit in the dirt to find some worms, anything better than what came with the rod.

Hannibal looked back at Will, curiously, and watched as Buster started to dig with furious energy in the soil, obviously used to “helping” Will in this way. “Have you decided to garden, Will?”

“I’m looking for worms, you’ll catch more fish that way than a synthetic lure and bait,” Will answered, looking up at Hannibal through the fallen pieces of his hair.

“I thought you used synthetic bait, for fly fishing,” Hannibal said, and watched as Buster barked, then dug worms out for Will, and pounced on them.

“You’re not fly fishing, are you?” Will smiled up at Hannibal, making a little pile of worms with Buster.

“No,” Hannibal said, certain that Will enjoyed the rare opportunity to teach him something.

“Then you use different baits and lures,” Will explained, and stood. “Reel it in, I’ll tie this worm to it.”

Hannibal reeled his lure in and held it so that Will could bait the hook properly as Hannibal watched. Will managed to get the worm on, good and tight, and then smiled at Hannibal, kissing his cheek.

“Cast it out, further.” Hannibal nodded, and put the rod over his shoulder, then cast it out, cautiously, laughing a little at his own ineptitude with the new hobby. “I am rather nervous of releasing too soon and accidentally catching one of the dogs behind me with the hook,” he admitted.

“It happens, but the rod won’t go if you do, so no flying dogs,” Will insisted with a little smile, watching the line go and then drop into the water.

“Far enough out?” Hannibal asked, over his shoulder, leaning back into Will’s space with a soft grin.

Will touched Hannibal’s shoulder and then hugged him from behind. “Yes. You should get more of a chance now.”

“Thank you, Will,” Hannibal murmured, with a nearly shy smile on his lips. “I never imagined that one day, I would willingly accept a lesson in fishing.”

“We have to keep cover somehow,” Will said and kept behind Hannibal, watching the line carefully for a tug.

“I think, perhaps I’m better suited to lu-” Hannibal stopped speaking when the line went taut. He held the rod still, then pulled up a little to test it. Sure enough, something heavy was tugging on the end.

“Reel it in,” Will said, grasping Hannibal’s arm to help him, though he hardly needed it.

Hannibal reeled the line in, slowly, and laughed at how hard whatever was on the end of the line was pulling. “Are they usually this strong?” he asked, as he fought the pull.

“Yes. It’s a sport for a reason,” Will chuckled, helping the best he could and brought the bucket for the fish closer.

Hannibal shot Will a look and reeled the fish in with a determined air, arms flexing under the thick sweater. The salmon wriggled and thrashed at the end of the line, silver in the low light of the late afternoon, which set Buster and the others barking and running up and down the shore in excitement. Hannibal grasped the line with the large fish at the end and put it in the bucket with a smirk. “Large enough for dinner, Will?”

“Yes,” Will said, sure they could get a few servings out of it. “You did well.”

Hannibal smiled up at Will, and kissed him over the floundering salmon, then took the small bat and killed the fish with a blow to the top of his head. Buster and Xena ran over, barking and jumping around the bucket, celebrating. “Do they do this when you catch fish, Will, or am I being condescended to?”

“Buster does this a lot,” Will laughed, and watched as they danced around, even if they got none of what they caught. “Xena learns from him.”

Hannibal gave them both a little pet behind the ears, and picked up the bucket to carry it into the house. “In that case, perhaps they can share the spoils.”

“You want to share our dinner?” Will asked, brows raised, aware he needed to make the dogs more food anyway. He followed Hannibal in.

“Only a little,” Hannibal said, as they piled in, all of the dogs following in a massive pack. Hannibal grabbed a towel kept by the door and began to dry them, one by one.

Will took the bucket and set the fish in the sink and then helped Hannibal wipe down paws and fur, letting each dog go. “I’ll need to get to the store for things to make their food at some point.”

“I’ve already gone,” Hannibal informed Will with a nod at their cupboards and the fridge. “I also put in an offer on our land, and located a farmer’s market nearby. It’s lovely,” he said, as he beckoned Poptart to him for her dry down. She laid at his feet, belly up, wagging with a toothy, crooked grin.

“You… got groceries on the bike?” Will asked, perplexed at Hannibal’s ability to do that. “Did you buy a side car I don’t know about?”

“No, I had them delivered,” Hannibal said, as he rubbed Poptart’s scruffy belly dry, very carefully.

“Oh.” Will eyed Hannibal thoughtfully and then let the last dog go. “I must have been very tired to sleep through that.”

“You were,” Hannibal said, smugly, and stood to wash his hands after wrapping Poptart in the towel and putting her near the fire. “You’d barely slept all night.”

“Preoccupied mind,” Will murmured, narrowing his eyes on Hannibal with that smug remark. He padded across the heated floors to the sink to start cleaning the fish.

Hannibal dried his hands and poured them both a glass of white wine, then handed one to Will. “Did you dream?”

Will sipped and then set the glass down as he worked, shrugging back his shoulders, shirt rolled to his forearms. “A little.”

“What about?” Hannibal asked as he stood behind Will.

“A… forest, back in Louisiana. A swamp, really, I guess.” Will set the guts and bone aside, they could use the guts later for more bait if needed.

Hannibal sipped his wine as he watched Will work, his dark eyes soft. “Have you been there before?”

“No. Well, to one, but this one was different, sort of hazy, dreamy. I knew it but I didn’t know it,” Will whispered, his shoulders sagging a little, like a weight had been pressed down over them.

Hannibal stood behind Will and wrapped one arm around his chest from behind. “Was it warm? Cold? Dark?”

“Cold and dark, raining,” Will replied, his hands working with ease and knowledge, where his mind was distant, stuck in a moment, a memory.

“Were you alone?” Hannibal asked his lips near Will’s earlobe.

“No.” Will set the knife in his hand down, hands shaking too much for him to use it safely. “I was with my father.”

Hannibal set his wine down, and wrapped both arms around Will, holding him. “How old were you, in your dream?”

“Maybe two. It’s only fragments.” Will rinsed his hands and then turned the water off, leaning back into Hannibal.

“Were you and your father alone, Will?” Hannibal asked, patiently, coaxing each detail out of Will as they talked their way through the distressing dream.

“Yes and no,” Will sighed, turning around to look at Hannibal. “It wasn’t so much a dream as it was a memory.”

Hannibal nodded, and looked into Will’s eyes, then led him to the bed to sit down, together, the nearby fireplace keeping them very warm as Will began to grow cool to the touch. “Was your mother there with you, Will?”

Will sat down, keeping one hand on Hannibal, to keep him close. This was not a place in his mind he wanted to go alone. “Yes and no.”

“Was she alive?” Hannibal asked, as he pulled Will closer, so that Will was in his lap, and his arms while he spoke of the nightmare he’d likely repressed for nearly forty years.

“Sh-she was sleeping,” Will stuttered, visibly shaking, cold and afraid in the moment, placed right back in the memory, long forgotten, put away and repressed for years. “That’s… that’s what he said. She was sleeping, I couldn’t wake her.”

If there had ever been a moment in his long life when Hannibal had been glad that he was a fully trained analyst, it was now. He had taken on psychiatry to dismantle patients, expose their weaknesses and manipulate them. Will was shaking, in a raw and vulnerable state as he whispered fragments of his most destructive memory, _the_ memory. He’d covered it over, forgetting that memory behaved like seeds. Something would grow from it, no matter how deeply it had been buried. Hannibal brushed his hand over the back of Will’s dark hair, and held him closer, even rocking him a little, back and forth. For the moment, Will was a child again in his arms, petrified, shocked and grieving a loss too large for him to comprehend. “Something terrible, and sad has happened to your mother, Will. I’m very sorry,” he whispered. He had to say now what Will should have been told at the time, what Will deserved to know instead of his father’s explanation. “She loves you, very deeply, but she cannot come back, no matter how much she wants to. I will take care of you, Will, from now on.”

Will turned into Hannibal, clutching his shirt with his weaker hand, shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed down his face, leaving little tracks where they went, and onto Hannibal’s shirt. “Dad told me she sailed away in a boat…”

Hannibal rested his cheek over the top of Will’s head as he held him tightly, and rocked him from side to side, soothing Will as he cried. He deserved to cry, over this. “You became a sailor, skilled enough to sail after anyone who left you,” he murmured. Hannibal could feel his own heart break a little, for Will. “I am sorry, Will. I am so sorry.”

Will slid his hand up Hannibal’s chest to his shoulders and wrapped it around, hiding his face into his neck, sniffling. It was all coming back, the dream had been a doorway, a gate into the mind that Hannibal had left cracked open for him. “He… he had slit her throat, and sewed it back up, said sh-she was o-okay, just sleepin’.”

Hannibal grimaced internally. He’d repeated the slit throat without knowing it’s meaning, of course, on Abigail. Hannibal sighed, and kissed the top of Will’s head, then rubbed his back with one hand. “He lied to you, about the very nature of reality.” Guilt was not a feeling Hannibal enjoyed.

Nodding almost furiously, Will agreed with trembling limbs. He’d forgiven Hannibal, without even knowing until now why the things he had done had hurt and wounded so deeply. Why he had attached himself to Abigail, why he wanted to save every last soul he could even if it meant his own sanity.

His eyelids lowered, Hannibal took a deep, slow breath, and kissed the top of Will’s head again, then his forehead, tenderly. “Trauma impacts the human psyche with the force of a meteor. We spend the rest of our lives tracing the cracks in endlessly repeating patterns. You became a sailor, in a subconscious wish to follow your mother. You became an officer in an attempt to bring your father to justice, even if you only pursued men like him. I’m certain your interest in law enforcement scared him, deeply. What was his reaction, Will?”

Will’s reality slowly started to fade from the memory to the present, Hannibal's scent lingering, helping to calm him, as well as his voice. “He… he disowned me. Said I was chasing ghosts.”

“You were chasing _him_ ,” Hannibal pointed out, as he breathed slowly, aware that Will would mimic the pattern of his breathing without trying. “You were young, determined, and angry.”

“Yes.” Will followed Hannibal’s tone and breathing, wiping away tears with one hand, more in shock and grief than he was mad now, but he knew that would settle in later, as grieving did.

Hannibal pulled back just enough to wipe Will’s tears for him, with his hand. Hannibal’s eyes were solemn, full of sorrow for young Will. “I’m certain he ran from you, and hid himself well. Do you imagine he would ever turn himself in?”

“Forty years later? I doubt it,” Will said with a sad sniffle, shaking his head. “I can’t go look for him now anyway.”

“It would be difficult to manage without attracting attention to ourselves,” Hannibal murmured. “But I have no doubt that satisfying your need for confrontation and revenge would benefit you, psychologically.”

Will pulled back, eyes rimmed red, tears still falling from them periodically. He shook his head slowly. “It’s not worth the risk.”

“That is up to you, Will,” Hannibal agreed, and brushed Will’s tears away for him, softly. Winston came closer, and nudged Will’s thigh, worried about him. “Recovering a memory of this magnitude can be nearly as difficult and distressing as the original experience, but it does offer a certain amount of clarity in the context of a life lived around it’s shadow.”

Will didn’t want to risk the life he had, the one he had fought for and finally had. He stayed wrapped up in Hannibal’s arms, comforted there. “I guess I need to figure out who I am after all this. If it changes or if it’s just my insight.”

“Your insight is part of you,” Hannibal said. He didn’t rush Will out of his arms. Will likely had not been comforted after the staggering loss, Hannibal was well prepared to make up for that, no matter how long it took. “Have you gained any other memory of her?”

“She was… a nurse. She worked hard and came home every day and cooked this big meals, and always made sure we were fed,” Will whispered, nose against Hannibal’s neck again, a soothing spot.

Hannibal smiled, sadly, and laid his big palm over Will’s neck at the back, to make him feel protected, and safe. “A medical professional with a passion for the culinary arts?” he mused, softly.

Humming once, Will pulled back enough to look Hannibal in the eye. “I guess there’s always been a reason I felt like you were family to me.”

Hannibal smiled, a little, and kissed Will on the lips, tenderly, then seemed to consider before speaking. “My father was a hunter, and enjoyed fishing, even though my mother complained that he mixed too thoroughly with the common fishermen when he came home smelling of salt water and blood,” Hannibal confessed, quietly.

“He was also quite fond of his hunting dogs. To my mother’s great dismay, he insisted his favourite hound sleep at the foot of their bed. She tolerated it, because she adored him, but it was a daily subject of dispute.”

“We fell in love with people we once adored,” Will whispered, eyes soft and distant, a heavy feeling in his chest, almost like it was empty and cold.

“With people we lost,” Hannibal whispered, and laid back on the bed with Will, holding him in his arms. “Do you remember anything your mother used to make? Any smells, tastes?”

“I was very little, so I remember a lot of macaroni and cheese, chicken, things I’d eat. My father didn’t always like it, complained there wasn’t steak when he wanted it, so she would make him other things,” Will explained, laying back with Hannibal, his head on his chest. “But… sh-she would make peach cobbler after every argument, mostly for me. As an apology, I think.”

A moment of genuine surprise passed over Hannibal’s face, and he took a breath, then sighed it out. “It is quite a famous southern comfort food,” Hannibal reasoned, against Will’s cheek.

“Peaches grow in the south in abundance. I liked it.” Will turned his face to gaze up at Hannibal. The peace dessert Hannibal had made him was the first he’d had in a long time, and it sparked something familiar inside of him, something homely, and right.

“When we have our property firmly in our possession, I think we should make it a priority to plant two peach trees,” Hannibal said, softly, his heart fluttering. “I’ll make it for you anytime you like.”

“Okay,” Will said with a sniffled chuckle. “We were supposed to plant those other ones…”

“I’m sure they have dried out since,” Hannibal said, laughing with Will.

“That’s okay. Maybe it’s the first thing we plant on our new land,” Will suggested, feeling lighter, less heavy with emotion. A new start was coming, after all.

“Before the first stone of the foundation is laid,” Hannibal promised, and smiled to himself to see Will brighten a little.

“I’d like that.” Will nodded, feeling the sun come through the clouds of his mind.

“So would I,” Hannibal nodded, and tucked a curling hair behind Will’s ear, tenderly. “New growth in a new home.”

Vulnerable in the moment, Will curled into Hannibal, sighing softly, clutching an arm around his waist. “Thank you.”

Hannibal closed his eyes when Will curled into him, and held him in return. “You do not need to thank me, Will.”

“Most people wouldn’t know how to handle that. I’m grateful,” Will whispered, exhausted all over again, despite his nap.

“I know you well, and I understand loss,” Hannibal said, whispering back to Will as he felt the weight of accumulated exhaustion in Will’s bones.

“I’m lucky then.” Will clutched harder and then let go, just resting there against his husband-to-be.

“I feel I should thank you, instead,” Hannibal said, against Will’s cheek.

“Why?” Will gazed up at Hannibal, eyes bright and droopy, sad and tired all at once.

“You allowed me into your most vulnerable moment,” Hannibal murmured, aware that Will was likely going to fall asleep. This time, however, Hannibal was certain he’d wake refreshed.

“I didn’t mean to,” Will whispered, his breath slowing once more, into an easy rhythm. “But you’re welcome.”

“Sleep, Will,” Hannibal murmured, against the top of Will’s head. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

Will took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I love you…”

Will had taken care of Hannibal when his body had been so thoroughly broken that it had almost failed him. Hannibal was quite happy to return the favour, and earn back Will’s trust by sheltering him during the emotional upheaval he faced now. “I love you, Will.”


End file.
